


the red lady of hresvelg

by agloeian



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Byleth accidentally winds back to the beginning of the game, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Spoilers for Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), aka edelgard wants dimitri to murder everyone who ever hurt her, and therefore is haunted by Edelgard and forced to settle her buisness in the mortal realm, and to stop the war lets the bandit from the first cutscene kill Edelgard, dimitri however actually CAN SEE GHOSTS, ghost!Edelgard, largely angsty, nonbinary!Byleth, probs a bit of shennanigans along the way tho, psychic!Dimitri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agloeian/pseuds/agloeian
Summary: “Another nightmare, Dimitri?” Edelgard asks from her position sat on the dresser.Dimitri gulps, doesn’t turn to look at her.She’s not real, he has to remind himself.Edelgard’s dead.“You’re not real,” Dimitri repeats, aloud this time.Edelgard just snorts. “We both know that’s a lie.”Byleth, when presented with an opportunity to prevent the imperial war from ever happening, takes it.They hate themselves for it.Aka: the Ghost!Edelgard AU you never asked for.





	1. the decision

**Author's Note:**

> me, minding my own buisness: *chilling* -u-  
timetravel centric plot bunnies: *ready to hit me over the head with ghost!Edelgard* >:3c 
> 
> iM SORRY i literally just finished another timetravel fic this year but then fire emblem came out and a friend and i came up with this awfully sad idea of an au and i  
well um  
may have gotten a bit carried away
> 
> so, a note before we start: i haven't finished the whole game yet - so no spoilers please - but, at the same time, there are going to be spoilers for certain aspects of the game in this fic, largely to do with Edelgard's past and aspects of the Blue Lions route.
> 
> otherwise, enjoy! :D 
> 
> (oh yeah, and Byleth in this fic is nonbinary so that 1. you can picture whatever byleth you want and 2. because fuck gender there i said it :P )

War.

Byleth is still trying to get their head around it.

Edelgard just started _a war. _

_Their _Edelgard.

The imperial soldiers are streaming in over the hills leading to Garreg Mach. There’s already been so much destruction, but with the forces still on the horizon…

_Sothis, Edelgard, what have you done? _Byleth thinks to themselves. _This is the end of the Monastery – no, of Fódlan as we know it. _

_How many innocents will die for your ideals? _

As Rhea flies out – you know the situation is dire when you don’t have time to question your boss turning into a literal _dragon _– to face the incoming imperial army, Byleth tries to focus on getting their students to safety, tries to ignore the screams, the heat and blaze, the shuddering collapse of the monastery buildings behind them.

But then they hear the rabid growls of demonic beasts, charging up the plains.

Rhea is quickly overwhelmed. 

Byleth doesn’t think – only acts.

Drawing the Sword of the Creator, Byleth rushes into the fray and, with a determined lunge, manages to stab clean through the mask of one of the beasts, piercing its weathered skin. This gives Rhea the opportunity to bat the monster away, through the nearby wall and down into the cavern bellow. The surrounding battlements then continue to crumble as Rhea fights her way out, boulders and debris crashing to the grass bellow, but soon she’s flying out and down in front of Byleth, towering above them.

There is a moment of eerie silence in the wake of chaos.

“Why did you come?” Rhea asks. She sounds – scared?

Byleth finds they don’t have an answer for her.

They don’t get an opportunity to respond either way.

Too late does Byleth hear Thales approach from behind, too late do anything but to pull the Sword of Creator close to their chest and brace themselves as a ball of dark magic comes hurtling in their direction. The force hits Byleth with a wave of searing heat.

They’re flung backwards, through the air, powerless, until Byleth finally finds some purchase on solid ground. But, _shit, _they’re still moving, no matter how they drag their feet and hands among the rubble, and they’re already too close to the edge of the cliff –

Byleth feels the earth slip away, the rush of the air.

Byleth panics and, in this panic, tries to rewind. To anytime, anywhere, _rewind_, Sothis_, _please, _rewind! _

With a flash of blinding colour, the world goes dark.

And then Byleth wakes with a start. They’re –

Oh.

In a bed?

They sit up, panting, and scan the room. Goddess, just where are - ?

“What did you _do?!” _A deeply familiar voice chastises, and Byleth’s heart skips a beat.

“…Sothis?” Are they hearing _Sothis? _

There’s a beat of silence.

“…If you can hear me again, then you _really _just messed up, you _fool!” _Sothis screeches in Byleth’s ear. “What was it you just _did?” _

“I – I was falling! I don’t know! I just…” Byleth finally starts to calm when they realise where they are.

This is the inn in Remire Village.

“…Rewound.”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Bye?” a voice calls, muffled through the wood. “Are you awake?”

For the second time in the span of a few minutes, Byleth doesn’t hesitate.

Throwing off the covers, Byleth rushes to the door and yanks the door open to see their _Father, _alive.

Byleth launches themselves at him and finally feels _safe _for the first time in forever.

“Oof!” Jeralt exhales, catching his child. “Woah, Bye, what’s this all about? Are you - ?” Jeralt’s brows crease. Delicately, he untangles himself from Byleth’s arms, and brushes a hand across their cheek. “You’re crying.”

_I’m…?_

Byleth reaches up, touches their face.

Oh. They _are_ crying.

“I’ve never…” Jeralt continues, before trailing off as Byleth shakes their head, brushing away the rest of their tears.

They try to smile at their Father – reassuringly – but it just feels shaky. “I had a bad dream, that’s all.” 

Jeralt continues to frown, but pulls Byleth back against his chest, wraps his arms around his child tight. “Must have been a heck of bad dream.”

“The worst,” Byleth sniffs. If only…

“If only it _had _been a nightmare,” Sothis mumbles in Byleth’s ear, echoing their thoughts. Her anger has softened now, if only to allow Byleth to have a reunion with their father. But their problems are still so close at hand. “If Jeralt is – _alive,_” Sothis continues, “goodness, just how far back did you rewind?”

“I’m sorry to rush you,” Jeralt begins again after a moment, “but everybody is outside – we’re getting ready to move out. There’s been an incident – a group of bandits attacking some kids.”

And, just like that, the air rushes out of Byleth’s lungs. “From the Officers Academy?” they can’t help but ask.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Jeralt confirms. “How did you know?”

“We’re back at the _beginning…!” _Sothis breathes. “The day you met your students for the first time – you must have rewound so far back that our souls untangled.”

“A gut feeling,” Byleth manages to reply. “I – I need a minute, but I’ll be right out. Don’t wait for me.”

_I need the time to think. _

“Are you sure?”

Byleth nods – tries once again to smile. “Yes. I won’t be long.”

Jeralt – well, he still looks concerned, but he nods, smiles back, and leaves without another word.

As soon as the door has closed, Sothis materialises, pushing herself into Byleth’s vision. “Do you know what this means?!” she cries.

Byleth takes a surprised step back. They shake their head.

“We can stop the war before it even begins!” 

_Oh. _

“…How?”

Sothis stalls.

“…Hm.” She sits back, floating in the air, and places a hand on her chin. “There are multiple ways – some with more concrete results with others. We could return to the Officer’s Academy, as Edelgard’s teacher, and guide her down a different path. But…”

Byleth sighs. “Edelgard is not so easily swayed.”

Sothis hums – sadly in agreement. “That _is_ why she was our favourite student – she held her ideals with such conviction. Hm… Is there no way to - ? Ugh, no! That wouldn’t work… Perhaps…?”

Eventually Sothis trails off, after mumbling to herself for some time. Her face is scrunched up in concentration, yet no answers seem to be in sight. Byleth, simultaneously, is wracking their brains.

It’s like they never left the battlefield. At least, that’s how it feels. The adrenaline is still rushing through Byleth’s veins, the urge to fight and run so strong it’s practically an instinct. Yet, the War is now a year away into the future, still but a seedling of a plan in Edelgard’s hands.

Byleth is really trying to think – oh so very hard – surely there must be a way to convince Edelgard that a war isn’t the way?

What Byleth knows, deep down, is that there isn’t.

When a person – a soul – has been crushed and crumpled so badly that they believe violence is the only way to solve their problems…

There is but one terrible, terrible way Byleth can think of to stop this war before it starts.

It is cruel, and monstrous.

Yet –

Byleth considers their options, truly.

Who will Edelgard become in order to achieve her goals? What will she sacrifice? Who will she betray?

Just how many innocents will die in this war? How many families will be displaced? How many will _suffer? _

Byleth cannot let there be a war – that is for certain.

And if Edelgard’s mind cannot be changed…

Sothis knows the second Byleth makes up their mind. 

“You’re not really…?” Sothis breathes, as Byleth paces around the room, equipping their sword and assembling the last pieces of their armour. “…Are you sure?”

Byleth pulls their coat over their shoulders and hopes their hands aren’t shaking. “Do I have any other choice?”

Sothis’ silence is answer enough.

The journey from the inn out into the surrounding woods feels like it takes years. It doesn’t help that Byleth’s feet feel heavier with every step.

_There has to be another way, there has to be another way, there has to be – _

Byleth knows there isn’t.

Yet the first glimpse of Edelgard, even from such a distance, nearly cracks their resolve.

Standing next to Jeralt, explaining their situation, she looks so _small._

She’s just a girl.

_A girl who’s planning on killing thousands, _Byleth has to remind themselves.

Byleth forces themselves to take a take a deep breath, and then marches on forwards as steeled as they can be.

Jeralt turns upon hearing their approach. “Ah, here they come now. Just in time, Bye.”

“You are Jeralt’s child, yes?” Edelgard asks, and Byleth nods.

But, “Please forgive our intrusion,” Dimitri interrupts with a bow before Byleth can make any other response. “And allow me to thank you for providing us with aid. We wouldn’t bother you were the situation not dire.”

“Its fine, kid,” Jeralt replies. “Honestly, I’m impressed with how well you’re handling the situation. Bandits, right?”

Claude is the one to interject next. “Right. We’ve been separated from our companions _and _we’re outnumbered. They’re after our lives… not to mention our gold.”

These lines, recited out in near perfect repetition. Byleth feels like they’re in some sick form of play.

Right on cue, Jeralt’s second-in-command comes rushing in their direction, bearing the location of their enemy. Jeralt listens, absorbs the vital information, and then turns to Byleth. “In the fight, hang back with the kids,” Jeralt asks – no, orders. He’s Byleth’s leader now, not just their father. “Protect them.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before focusing back in on the three academy students. He offers them a nod. “Let’s go.”

How Byleth hates that they can’t keep their promise.

Approaching the road to the town, the bandits come into sight with startling immediacy. With a single nod in Byleth’s direction, Jeralt races off into the fray, and Byleth takes this as a queue to draw their sword.

Behind them, they hear the students do the same, seemingly waiting on Byleth’s movements.

The switch into the tactician’s headspace is as easy as breathing. “Stay behind me,” Byleth commands, “but take out anyone that gets too close.”

“Affirmative,” Dimitri says.

And, “Roger that,” Claude replies, as Byleth also hears him notch an arrow.

Edelgard stays silent.

There is silence for but a moment.

Thwack! A sharp burst of air wizzes through the air, past Byleth’s cheek and off into the body of an incoming bandit, attempting to sneak up on them. Claude whistles in appreciation of his own good aim, but Byleth wastes no time, instead running forwards and slashing their sword across the enemy’s chest.

The deed is quickly done – yet Byleth can see more bandits incoming from the forest. As the next one comes into range, it is Dimitri who rushes into the fray, lance first. He meets the bandit with a practised calm, blocking the enemy’s first stab and retaliating with a blow to their head. The man staggers back, clutching at the wound and _howling_, giving Edelgard all the opportunity she needs to slide in past Dimitri and cut down the bandit with her axe.

With a heavy thump the man falls, and Edelgard spins back, resting her axe up against her shoulder. “Failure is not an option,” she quips, meeting Byleth’s eye.

It’s a challenge. Byleth knows that now.

Byleth meets her gaze, heavy and without flinching, and issues a silent apology.

Then they dart off into the trees.

The fight progresses as Byleth expects. While their students may be inexperienced, the bandits are sloppy – reckless – and easily despatched with. Soon enough, they’ve caused enough of a stir for the bandit leader to make himself known, and the sight of him makes Byleth’s stomach churn.

They know what’s coming.

“Over there,” Byleth hears Edelgard hiss, jostling Claude’s side. “The leader!”

Byleth keeps their back turned and pretends not to hear as Claude replies, “Where are you going?”

“To eliminate him!” Edelgard says. “If he dies, perhaps the others will retreat.”

There’s a pause. “But the mercenary said – ?”

“Fine then,” Edelgard sighs. “I’ll just finish this myself.” 

Byleth knows she’s made her exit when Claude returns beside them. “Edelgard’s gone off on her own,” he – begrudgingly – informs Dimitri, effectively catching the prince off guard.

He pauses – just for long enough that Byleth has to move in and prevent the boy from being stabbed in the back – and turns to stare off in Edelgard’s direction. “We should go after her before she gets hurt.”

“She’s headed in my Father’s direction,” Byleth has to interrupt. “He’ll be able to watch out for her.”

_I can’t go, _Byleth thinks to themselves. _If I go, I’ll – _

_I’ll be in range to save her. _

Thankfully, Byleth doesn’t have to argue any further. Their words seemingly placate Dimitri and Claude, and the appearance of three more men through the trees turn their attentions elsewhere. 

If only for a few short minutes, Byleth doesn’t have to think about the future, the decision looming on the horizon. There is only the fight, the need to survive.

It doesn’t last long enough.

“That appears to be the last of them,” Byleth hums, all too soon, warily sheathing their sword.

_Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. _

Dimitri and Claude – they don’t _know _Byleth yet, cannot read the unease on their face. Instead, the two students take Byleth’s words at face value, and they visibly sag.

Relieved.

“…Well, my master plan royally backfired on us, didn’t it?” Claude jokes after a moment.

“What ‘master plan?’” Dimitri retorts. “Running away?”

“It was a strategic retreat!” Claude says. “And it would have _worked _if you and Edelgard hadn’t followed me.”

This catches Dimitri’s attention. “Speaking of, we should go find her, now all the bandits have been defeated.”

“She went this way,” Byleth says, numbly, and begins to walk off.

_There’s time to change my mind, _Byleth can’t help but think. _Maybe Edelgard can be persuaded? _

Once again, Dimitri and Claude fail to read the mood.

“Byleth, was it?” Dimitri calls, jogging to catch up to Byleth’s side. They nod and even this minimal response spurs Dimitri on. “The way you held your ground against the bandits back there – it was captivating! It shows just how much I still have to learn.”

“Ah, Dimitri,” Claude sighs, now on Byleth’s other side, “there you go, being a giant suck-up, as per usual,” he teases.

“Claude…” Dimitri groans – going a little pink.

But, “Claude! Dimitri!” Edelgard’s voice calls across the plain, just as they exit the woods. She’s stood near the watch tower – waving – a grin on her face. Jeralt isn’t too far off, and appears to be apprehending the last of the bandits left alive.

Edelgard’s back is turned to the bandit leader lying prone on the grass behind her.

Byleth feels their throat clamp shut.

Tries to remember why this has to happen.

_I can’t watch. _

Byleth closes their eyes.

There’s a thud – the bandit leader flipping to his feet.

A gasp – Claude to their right.

_“Edelgard, behind - !” _Dimitri shouts, to their left.

A scream.

Their eyes open – instinctively – just in time to see the bandit embed his axe right into Edelgard’s back.

Byleth has never hated themselves more than in that moment.

They don’t rewind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel the need to apologise and this is the first chapter oops um soz?


	2. from the corner of your eye

_Dimitri is covered in blood. _

_It’s never his own._

_There’s a body in his arms – very quickly growing cold – and there’s the heaving sound of sobbing in his ears. _

_“Dimitri…” Edelgard says, softly, as if comforting a child. “Don’t cry.” A hand reaches up, brushes his away his tears. “Not for me.” _

_“El…” he manages to choke out. “El, don’t leave me here.”_

_Alone._

_Everyone always leaves him. _

_Edelgard – her eyes widen. “Huh…” Strangely, she _laughs. _“I didn’t think there was anyone left that called me that…” _

Dimitri jolts up in his bed.

His head is _pounding. _

He groans, twists his legs around and off the bed, massaging his temples.

_Another _nightmare.

Dimitri drags his hands down his face, then inspects them.

They’re clean – not covered in blood.

Not this time, at least.

_Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think –_

His room is softly lit by the morning sun, streaming in through the windows. There are some birds chirping outside, but that’s all Dimitri can hear, except perhaps his own heavy breathing.

It’s early enough that no one else is up, then.

Dimitri sighs, and then stands.

He won’t be able to get back to sleep, not after that, so he might as well get ready for the day ahead.

With a yawn, Dimitri grabs a towel from his chest of draws, and heads towards the door. A bath might help calm him down.

“Good morning, Dimitri,” Edelgard says as he passes by.

Dimitri ignores her.

Edelgard is sat on his bed when Dimitri gets back from the bathroom, and she follows when he leaves for the day’s classes.

The sun has fully risen now, and with that the first souls are emerging out onto the monastery grounds. Nonetheless, it’s still far too early to head to class, and so Dimitri’s feet instinctively lead him towards the second floor and around the winding corridors to the monastery’s library.

Getting some extra reading in couldn’t hurt.

Edelgard is right on his heels, seemingly content to follow along silently. She’s been doing this consistently since – _since – _

Dimitri shakes his head as he pushes the library doors open.

It’s not _really _Edelgard, he has to remind himself. She’s just a product of his mind – a manifestation of his guilt.

Edelgard’s dead.

The library is a quiet distraction from his thoughts – a safe haven from his troubles. Dimitri walks down the centre aisle, and directly towards the shelf closest to the right corner. His fingers instinctively run along the spines, stopping at complete random.

Dimitri ends up pulling out an old tome – seemingly worn and well-loved. 

“A Monarch Studies book?” Edelgard questions. She leans around him to try and read the title. “Oh! I’ve read this. The chapter on deconstructing feudalism is particularly interesting.” 

Dimitri frowns and paces away, leaving Edelgard to trail behind him.

This is when he bumps directly into a warm body.

He stumbles, doesn’t quite fall, but the book tumbles to the floor. Dimitri casts his gaze up –

“I’m sorry,” Professor Byleth says, kneeling down to pick up the fallen object. “I tried to warn you, but you must not have heard me. Here.” They reach out, offering the book to Dimitri, along with a small smile.

At the same time, however, the Professor looks _tired. _

Dimitri wasn’t quite sure what to think of the mercenary at first. Skilled in combat, yes, and a seemingly master tactician. Yet –

_No. _Dimitri shuts down that line of thought. He cannot hold the Professor responsible for Edelgard’s death. There was no predicting it, no time to push Edelgard out of harm’s way.

Besides, the bags under the Professor’s eyes speak of sleepless nights similar to Dimitri’s own. 

“Thank you,” Dimitri responds, taking the book. “I must apologise as well – I should have been paying more attention to my surroundings.”

The Professor shakes their head. “It’s fine. I know what it’s like to be lost in thought.” They take another glance at the tome in Dimitri’s hands. “Oh, I’ve read this.”

“It appears the professor has good taste,” Edelgard hums appreciatively. “Ask them what they think about that feudalism theory, Dimitri. I think it was in chapter seventeen?”

“What did you think about chapter seventeen, Professor?” Dimitri blurts before he has the chance to properly think this through. “About – uh – deconstructing feudalism?”

The Professor stills – is that a look of surprise? Dimitri hasn’t gotten very good at reading their facial expressions yet. Nonetheless, they respond, saying, “That is a particularly interesting chapter. It’s quite revolutionary in its views – what with how it condemns all kings and nobility as inherently oppressive.” They place a hand on their chin. “What’s that quote concerning the corruption of power?”

“The advantage the nobility holds breeds insolence, and nature makes all souls jealous,” Edelgard recites.

Dimitri repeats her.

Byleth snaps their fingers. “Ah, yes, that was it. There are some compelling arguments made in this tome – but I can’t quite believe _all _people, when in positions of power, are completely corruptible. To judge everyone by the same merits is rather naïve.”

“Hm,” Edelgard assesses, crossing her arms. “This Professor may prove interesting yet.”

“Any particular reason for your question?” the Professor asks – with the tilt of their head.

Dimitri shakes his head, hurriedly. “Oh, no, I was merely curious.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask? I’d be happy to answer more questions on the way to class.” There’s a soft smile on their face again – Dimitri isn’t so sure what it’s supposed to mean.

But, right, yes, _class. _

“…If you’re offering, Professor, I _have_ been wondering...”

As they leave the library, Dimitri clutches the book tighter to his chest. 

He’s never read it before in his life.

Dimitri is surprised when Professor Byleth informs the Blue Lions that this month’s mock battle will be going ahead as planned. 

Is it not too soon? After…?

“Rhea believes it is important to maintain a semblance of normalcy in times of grief,” the Professor explains – albeit begrudgingly, Dimitri thinks, noting it is not the _Professor _who thinks this, but the Archbishop.

Some worried eyes flicker to Dimitri with the Professor’s words.

He tries to ignore them.

As such, the day is largely spent at Garreg Mach’s training ground.

The Professor begins the day’s classes by pairing up the students, setting them off to spar freely. Their aim, it seems, is move around the class and correct as they go, giving the class ample to spar, be advised, and then improve.

Dimitri is first paired with Sylvain.

“Ready to lose, your Highness?” Sylvain taunts as they prepare for their match, a sly grin on his face.

Dimitri smirks back. “I won’t be the one losing today, Sylvain.”

“Oo, the Prince has some bite in him today!” Sylvain laughs, twirling the axe in his hand. “On the count of three?”

Dimitri nods. “One. Two.”

“Three!” Sylvain finishes, launching himself at Dimitri, axe first.

Dimitri spins. Sliding across the ground, he deftly dodges Sylvain’s strike, the axe instead colliding with nothing but air. In this motion, Sylvain leaves his left side undefened – giving Dimitri the perfect opportunity to slide in his spear. But, no! Sylvain recovers quickly, swinging his axe again to block the blow. He then jumps back a pace, distancing himself from Dimitri’s range.

He looks pleased with himself, but –

“My, Sylvain _is _cocky if he thinks he can beat you, Dimitri,” Edelgard comments, from where she’s sat on the steps behind Sylvain. “His grip on that axe is all _wrong._”

Dimitri grits his teeth and tries not to look over in Edelgard’s direction.

_Thank you for being so distracting, El, _Dimitri thinks.

He rushes in, attempts to slash Sylvain across the chest, but then Sylvain swerves, attempting to cut Dimitri’s spear in half. Dimitri darts to the side –

Barely missing the hit, because he’s distracted.

Distracted by Edelgard trying to grip Sylvain’s axe.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, as Edelgard’s hands pass through the axe, completely intangible.

“I’m trying to correct his grip – ugh, this is fruitless!” she groans, as her hands pass through Sylvain’s once again. 

Weirdly, Sylvain shudders. “Ugh, sorry,” he says. “I got all cold suddenly. I think someone just walked over my grave.”

“Oh! Did he _feel _me?” Edelgard says. Impulsively, she waves her hand through Sylvain’s arm.

Sylvain full on _shakes. _

Dimitri’s mouth gapes.

“Did it just get really cold in here or is it just me?” Sylvain asks.

“N-no,” Dimitri stutters. “I felt it too,” he lies.

“Dimitri? Sylvain?” the Professor asks, strolling over. “Everything okay?”

“No, yeah, it’s fine, Professor,” Sylvain responds. “We just got chatting, that’s all.”

“Let’s get you back on task then. From the top?” they request, moving to lean against a nearby column, settling in to watch.

“Roger that!” Sylvain replies with a salute.

Edelgard rolls her eyes, moves to stand behind Dimitri. “If you don’t win, I’m disowning you as my step-brother.”

Dimitri bites his tongue.

_It’s not like you ever acknowledged me as a brother while you were alive. _

“Ready?” the Professor asks.

Dimitri nods, as does Sylvain.

“…Start!” they call, and Dimitri rushes in. But –

“Holy _shit!” _Sylvain cries, so startled that he fails to raise his axe in time to block Dimitri’s attack.

Dimitri’s spear slashes straight across Sylvain’s side.

All Dimitri can see is the splash of blood as his friend topples to the ground.

The training grounds go silent.

_Oh no. _

“Sylvain, I’m so sorry!” Dimitri says, rushing to his friend’s side. “Are you okay?” he asks, as the Professor also comes jogging in.

Yet, “I’m fine, Your Highness,” Sylvain responds, clutching his side. “Don’t worry – it’s just a scratch.”

“What happened?” the Professor asks, a frown on their face.

“I just – ” Sylvain begins, pauses. “It’s weird. I thought I saw someone behind Dimitri for a second. A girl dressed in red. Here one second, gone the next.”

Dimitri feels his blood run cold. 

Dimitri is soon rushed out of the infirmary by Manuela, but only after repeated assurances that Sylvain is _fine, _that he’s only really dealing with a few stitches.

Nonetheless, Dimitri feels so _guilty. _

He should have noticed Sylvain was distracted – shouldn’t have been using so much strength in the first place.

Edelgard, however, seems to have a different opinion on the matter.

“He _saw _me, Dimitri!” she says, racing to keep up with him as he goes down the stairs two at a time. “I don’t know how but we made eye contact, if only for a second.”

Dimitri keeps his mouth clamped shut, no matter how tempted he is to respond.

She’s not _real. _

He speeds up, turns out onto the grass. He’ll go down to the fishing pond and try to clear his head. The training session will be finishing soon for lunch, so then Dedue will come find him and they can go to lunch together.

Everything will be _fine. _

“Is it because I touched him before hand?” Edelgard _continues._ “He definitely felt me pass through his arm.”

Dimitri speeds up slightly more, so much so that Edelgard has to jog to keep up.

“Dimitri?” she questions.

Dimitri breaks into a run.

_She’s not real, she’s not real, she’s not real, she can’t be _real!

“Dimitri!” Edelgard snaps in the distance, but she’s _finally _getting quieter as Dimitri puts distance between them.

He runs until he reaches the greenhouse, slowing to a jog, stopping just before the fishing pond. There, Dimitri closes his eyes and takes a deep, deep breath.

He holds it.

_Three, four, five – _

Then he’s shoved.

It’s so unexpected that, with an undignified shriek, Dimitri loses all sense of balance and topples straight into the water.

He hits the surface with a sharp slap, his skin tingling, and Dimitri knows that he must have made quite a splash, but there’s only one thought that’s echoing around his brain.

Orientating himself, Dimitri swims up, breaking the surface with loud gasp.

He’s met with the sight of a furious Edelgard. Hands on her hips, cheeks red, she yells, “Stop _ignoring me, _Dimitri! I know you can hear me.”

“…You touched me,” Dimitri says, unable to help himself.

He felt it, clear as day.

Edelgard, a supposed figment of his guilty brain, _touched him. _

She stills. “…I did,” Edelgard says, seemingly just as surprised as Dimitri.

Dimitri turns up for lunch with sopping wet hair – late, too.

He scans the room, looking for his classmates, eyes passing over the Golden Deer and Black Eagles…

It is Annette who catches his attention with a wave. “Over here!” 

“What happened, Your Highness?” Dedue asks – with a frown – as Dimitri walks over. “You’re late… and wet.” 

“…I fell into the pond,” Dimitri admits.

Edelgard _giggles. _

“Oh no! Are you alright?” Mercedes asks, but –

“Serves the boar right for being so careless,” Felix says, paying more attention to his food than Dimitri’s presence.

In response, Sylvain rolls his eyes, shoves Felix with his elbow. “Knock it off – I’m fine. Besides, the ladies _love_ a good battle scar.”

“Ew,” Ingrid deadpans. “Just… _ew._”

“Come on, Your Highness,” Annette says. She scoots up the bench. “You can sit here. Sylvain was just telling us about the ghost!”

Dimitri has a bad feeling about this.

It doesn’t help that Edelgard suddenly looks _even more _pleased with herself.

“The ghost?” he asks tentatively, sitting down.

“Yeah, the one I saw during our training match!” Sylvain explains. 

“Do you really think it was a ghost?” Ashe asks, twiddling his fingers nervously.

Annoyingly, Sylvain nods. “I’m _positive. _There were, like, cold spots and everything.”

_This is bad, _Dimitri thinks. He can feel himself starting to sweat.

Felix is the one to argue, “Ghosts aren’t _real.” _

_Thank the goddess – someone with sense._

He is but one voice of reason in a sea of buffoonery, however.

“Yeah, well, my seven stitches say otherwise,” Sylvain disputes. “You know, we should have a séance! Try and contact the spirit.”

The Blue Lions erupt into noise – agreements all around, discussions of times and places.

Dimitri feels ice cold – frozen.

“It appears _some people _are willing to listen to me, Dimitri,” Edelgard says in his ear.

Dimitri surges upright - uncontrollably. 

“Your highness?” Dedue asks, worry in his gaze.

The group has gone silent, Dimitri realises belatedly.

“I – I am not feeling so well. I think I’m going to lay down.”

“I can walk you back?”

Dimitri shakes his head. “No, it’s okay, Dedue.” He tries to smile reassuringly. “Enjoy your lunch.”

He dashes off, feeling sick to his stomach.

_There is fire, and smoke – the charred smell of human remains. _

_He can’t breathe – literally, and also for fear of tasting death on his tongue. Tears track down his cheeks, and his knees are scraped from climbing through the rubble. _

_“Glenn?” he calls out through the destruction. “Dad?”_

_No one responds. _

_He is alone with the dead._

_Alone, alone, alone, alone, alone – _

Dimitri sits up with a start.

He’s panting – hard – clutching the sheets to his chest.

So much for having a peaceful lie down.

“Another nightmare, Dimitri?” Edelgard asks from her usual position – sat up on the dresser. If Dimitri didn’t know any better, he’d have thought she sounded concerned. 

But – Dimitri gulps, doesn’t turn to look at her.

_She’s not real, _he has to remind himself.

Edelgard’s dead.

“You’re not real,” Dimitri repeats, aloud this time.

Edelgard just snorts. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“You _can’t _be real,” Dimitri says, finally giving in. He turns to Edelgard with a glare. “_None _of you are real. I’m just – “

“Crazy?” Edelgard taunts. “Hallucinating?” She jumps down from her seat, and begins listing off on her fingers. “Today I have provided you with knowledge from a book you’ve never read – been seen by Sylvain and – on top of that – pushed you into the monastery’s lake.” She stalks forwards, leans into Dimitri’s space. “I’m real, no matter what you tell yourself.” 

“Then what do you _want, _El?!” Dimitri hisses. “Why are you haunting me?”

Edelgard – she smiles. It’s beautiful, but Dimitri can’t help but think it’s cruel too. “What I want is _revenge, _Dimitri,” she pokes his chest, and, strangely, Dimitri can _feel _the touch, “and you’re the only one who can help me get it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a really nerdy end note to give credit where it is due: the line Edelgard quotes in this chapter is actually an edited line from Herodotus' Histories 3.80. 
> 
> god im such a nerd
> 
> thank you for all your kudos and comments last chapter, and thank you for reading so far! <3


	3. alone with the truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this - uh - got a lot angstier than i was intending. i dont know where it came from - i think byleth just kinda took over? ^u^' 
> 
> anyway, thank you for 100 kudos and all the comments! enjoy the chapter <3

The Blue Lions win the mock battle.

It comes as a surprise to Byleth, largely because last time it was the _Black Eagles _that emerged victorious.

Byleth still remembers how Edelgard’s face lit up, the way she _celebrated. _

Instead, today, it was _Dimitri _who turned to them when the battle was won, exuberant and proud.

Are they really that important of a player in this game? That their mere presence turns the tide?

In all truth, Byleth didn’t pick to lead the Blue Lions. When Rhea asked them, when the house assignments came along, Byleth shook their head. _‘Give me whoever is left,’ _they’d said.

The Blue Lions had just been at the bottom of the pile.

Truthfully, Byleth embraces the change – they’re sure they couldn’t cope leading the Black Eagles again. To see a lack of recognition in their eyes, downcast faces, _Ferdinand _as the house leader…

The guilt would eat Byleth whole.

More than it already is.

And, here and now, it’s easy to get carried away in the joy and atmosphere of the Blue Lions as they chatter away after their victory.

“Professor!” Byleth hears Dimitri call behind them, on the road up to the Monastery. He’s as polished as ever after the fight, but there’s a hop in his step that usually isn’t there. “I was hoping we could all share a meal together as a house. It could serve as both a victory celebration and a post-battle analysis. What do you think?”

“I’m invited?” Byleth blurts.

_You don’t deserve to go _–_ deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to Edelgard. She _trusted _you. You – _

Dimitri blinks, caught off-guard. “Of course, Professor. After all, we fought hard out there. Such exertion is bound to make anyone hungry for respite, don’t you agree?”

“Come now, Professor!” Byleth hears Sylvain chime in. Then, there’s an arm wrapped around their shoulders, Sylvain winking at their side. “We can’t very well celebrate without the key to our victory present.”

Byleth suddenly feels rather _warm. _

They’re saved – thank Sothis – by Ingrid. Storming past, she drags Sylvain away by the ear, proceeding to thwack him over the head. _“Sylvain! _Why do I have to spend all my free time monitoring you?! I’m not your mother!” She turns back to Byleth with the roll of her eyes. “I’m sorry about him, Professor. But, really, you _should _join us for dinner.”

“I’m so famished I can barely stand,” Ashe chuckles. “Let’s head directly to the dining hall. Together.”

Annette – with a giggle – runs to the front of the group and declares, “Last one to the dining hall is a rotten egg!” before racing off up the steep hills to the monastery.

Miraculously, this spurs the _entire _Blue Lion house into action.

“Oh, Annie, wait!” Mercedes laughs, jogging after her best friend, as she pulls Ashe along behind her. Felix and Sylvain have also darted up ahead – silently having decided this is most _definitely _a race.

Dedue, in response to all this, huffs – fondly it seems. “I will make sure they don’t get into any trouble, Your Highness, Professor,” he says, before strolling ahead to keep an eye on his gaggle of friends.

Soon, it is all but Byleth and Dimitri lingering at a walking pace.

It is peacefully silent, if only for a moment.

“Professor,” Dimitri hesitantly begins. His eyes seemingly dart to his other side, but quickly return to Byleth after a pause. “I’m sorry to intrude, but… you don’t look too happy for someone who just won.”

_Hm, _Byleth thinks. _He’s rather intuitive. _

Byleth – sighs. “You’re mistaken. I _am _happy. There is just… a lot on my mind.”

“…I understand.” Dimitri replies, casting his eyes to the floor. “I know how hard it can be to accept joy sometimes. I’m sorry for prying.”

Byleth shakes their head. “Its fine, Dimitri. I appreciate your concern. How are – ” they take a deep breath “ – how are you holding up?”

If anything, Dimitri _deflates _– like the sheer reminder of Edelgard’s death pierced him anew.

Byleth winces – that reaction is answer enough. Hesitantly, they place a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. “I – I wish I could have done more, Dimitri. The events of that day – they’re on me.” Byleth removes their hand, keeps their eyes steady on the road ahead. “I wouldn’t judge you if you hated me for it.”

_I do. _

“W-what?” Dimitri stutters. “Professor, _no. _I – I don’t _hate _you! No one could have _known _what – ” Dimitri gulps “ – what was going to happen.”

_I did. _

_I let her die. _

Byleth keeps their lips pursed shut for fear of what they might say. 

“…Edelgard wouldn’t want you to blame yourself, Professor,” Dimitri, nonetheless, continues.

Byleth turns their attention Dimitri’s way. His brow is furrowed, his jaw is set. He appears adamant.

Byleth – they sigh.

_I know Edelgard – she would hate me for this. _

“It’s okay, Dimitri,” they say, despite it all. “I’m sorry for bringing down the mood. Since we’re approaching the monastery now, why don’t you go join the rest of the class?”

Dimitri’s frown persists. “You will be attending dinner, right?”

Byleth nods. “Once I’ve reported to the Archbishop, yes.”

“Good,” the young prince confirms. He smiles at them. “I will be waiting for you.”

Watching him go, Byleth knows one thing for sure.

They don’t deserve his kindness.

Byleth walks through the monastery alone, their only company the shadows cast by the setting sun. The sound of their footsteps echoes through the halls and the staircases, constant and repetitive.

They stop just before the doors to the Audience Chamber, hesitating.

_Rhea…_

Byleth isn’t sure how to handle the Archbishop.

With Byleth’s knowledge of what has been, what will be, and what now can never be, how should they respond to the Archbishop? To her questions, her requests… 

Byleth shakes their head. It is a problem to be solved another day.

They push the doors open.

Rhea is expectant.

“Ah, Professor,” she calls across the room. Her hands are clasped on her stomach, her head held high. Seteth stands at the Archbishop’s side, stagnant and cold. “Your work with the students was remarkable. I see Jeralt trained you well.”

_Hm, that’s a dig if I’ve ever heard one, _Byleth realises.

“My father has always been a good teacher,” they say with a nod, crossing the floor to stand closer.

“Of course, the mock battle was mere practice,” Seteth interrupts. “The real fight is the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, which will take place during the Wyvern Moon. You are expected to properly train your students so as not to humiliate the academy during the long-held tradition that is the coming battle.”

“Ah, Seteth has such faith in us right now, does he not?” Sothis says in their ear – so suddenly Byleth has to resist jumping. Sothis, as if noticing this, groans. “Did you _really _forget about me? I was just taking a well-earned nap! …Well, respond! Before you stare blankly at them any longer!”

“O-of course,” Byleth stutters.

Rhea – thankfully – seems undisturbed.

The rest of the meeting passes easily and without consequence. There are no missions for the upcoming month, unusually, and so Byleth is just expected to train the students with no particular agenda in mind.

Seteth impatiently points out towards the end of the meeting that – if there are no missions to assign – his attendance is largely superfluous, and that he has other matters to attend to.

Rhea and Byleth both watch as he strides away after a curt goodbye.

“I apologise for Seteth,” Rhea says, with the shake of her head. “He does not adapt overly well to change. I’m sure you two will find time to bond over the coming year.”

Byleth hums – knowing the truth of that matter.

It’s not really what’s on their mind, either.

“…May I ask you a question, Rhea?” they say.

There’s something Byleth has to know.

The Archbishop’s face stays as neutral as ever. “Anything, my child.”

“Why did you hire me?”

This, however –

“Pardon?” Rhea questions. “You wish to know why I made you a professor at the Academy?”

“What are you asking, Byleth? Do not be rash,” Sothis chides, but Byleth can’t help themselves.

“I let one of your students die – an extremely important one at that,” Byleth says. “What strengths in that failure could I have _possibly _shown that would make me a good candidate to be a Professor?”

_How blinded are you in your bias towards me?_

Rhea is still for a moment. After a pause, she, slowly, reaches out, and places a strong hand on Byleth’s shoulder. “The answer is simple. It is the fact that, despite knowing Edelgard so briefly, you still mourn her loss. You care deeply. It means you will do everything you can to prevent this from happening ever again.” 

Byleth –

They have no words.

There is no sweetness in this answer – it only tastes bitter.

Darkness has set by the time Byleth has left Rhea’s chambers.

They feel –

Their fists clench, as they march down the halls.

Byleth has never been good at figuring out how they feel.

All they know is that this is all wrong. As they live and breathe, existing without Edelgard feels like divine punishment. 

“You let her die to save thousands,” Sothis reminds Byleth, softly. “We had no other choice.” Byleth’s jaw remains set as they edge closer and closer to the dining hall. “…I know that thought doesn’t make this any easier.” 

Byleth halts – just before the entrance to the dining hall. The chamber they stand in now is dark – barely lit by the few wall torches – and so the golden light from hall barrels into Byleth’s vision.

They can see their students, sat not too far away. Dimitri is trying to hide his laughter, a hand covering his mouth, as Felix and Sylvain seemingly bicker away across from him. Ingrid has long since stopped paying attention, instead involving herself in an animated conversation with Ashe and Annette – about knights, most likely – while Dedue and Mercedes eat away, quietly content.

…They made a promise – to attend this celebratory meal.

Byleth takes a hesitant step forwards. 

“…Do you hear that?” Sothis interrupts.

Byleth freezes, and listens.

Step.

Step.

Cane.

Instinctively, Byleth steps behind a nearby pillar. It will be nothing, a guard, a resistant of the monastery. Yet, the hairs on the back of Byleth’s neck persist, standing on end. Sothis’ silence speaks of her own unease.

Step.

Step.

Cane.

The sound echoes around Byleth. They don’t draw their sword – not yet – but, Byleth can _see _it now – there is a shadow in the dark.

Step.

Step.

Cane.

In tandem, Byleth and Sothis watch the figure pass, as the hunched shape approaches the entrance of the monastery – taking one careful check behind them.

Tomas, the monastery librarian, pulls the hood of cloak over his head and continues on his way.

_“_Solon…” Sothis breathes, peaking her head out around the column. “Where could he be going at this time…?”

Byleth doesn’t spare another glance towards the dining hall. Their feet carry them away like leaves in the wind. The decision is made before they realise there’s a decision to make.

There are more snakes to kill to ensure Fódlan’s fragile peace stays intact, Byleth realises, to ensure Edelgard’s sacrifice is not in vain. 

The Ashen Demon draws their sword and stalks their prey through Garreg Mach.


	4. the snake's skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helllooooooo!  
this chapter took slightly longer than i would have hoped, but oh well! it's done now!!!  
thank you, once again, for all the kudos and bookmarks and comments (ahhh!) and i hope you enjoy the chapter!!!!!! <3

_While morning light is streaming in through Dimitri’s windows, the atmosphere is anything but sunny in this small room. _

_“So,” Dimitri says after a long break in the conversation – needing the pause to absorb everything he’s just learnt. “There’s this – it’s a cult?”_

_“Yes,” Edelgard confirms. She’s sat at Dimitri’s desk, while her step-brother paces around the room. _

_“Okay, there’s a cult called ‘Those Who Slither in the Dark’ that aims to undermine and eventually destroy the Church of Seiros. When we were children, after you left Faergus, this cult – they – ” _

_Dimitri swallows dryly, and his eyes flicker to meet Edelgard’s. _

_She meets his gaze head on. “Go on.” _

_Dimitri breathes. “…They – they _experimented _on you and your siblings,” goddess, Dimitri hates saying this, “and only you survived.” _

_“Keep going, Dimitri.” _

_“You want revenge on these people for what they did to you and your family but because you’re – uh – a _ghost ­– _you can’t. So, you’re requesting my help.” _

_“Precisely.” _

_“How?” Dimitri asks, halting his pacing. “How do I help you, El? Do you know where to find these people? How to expose them? If we get this wrong…”_

_The consequences could be _endless. 

_Edelgard frowns, purses her lips. “…There is something else you should know – something that might help… _motivate _you.” _

_Dimitri – he can’t help it – laughs, in shock more than anything. “More motivation than destroying the people that tortured you? El, I’ll help, I just want to be cautious – ”_

_But Edelgard isn’t done. “It is very likely that Those Who Slither in the Dark helped organise the Tragedy of Duscar.” _

Dimitri stabs the potatoes on his plate.

He’s sat in the dining hall with the rest of the Blue Lions but – after such a sombre conversation with the Professor – well, his mind is wandering, back to what he had learnt from Edelgard that morning.

To think, the people that killed his _family _could be the same people that murdered Edelgard’s. And, if what she’s saying is true, they’ve also been hiding beneath their noses this entire time. Dimitri could have talked to – befriended! – one of the _rats…! _

There’s a snap.

…Sylvain whistles from across the table. “You’ve done a real number on that knife, Your Highness.”

Dimitri blinks – breaks away from his thoughts. “Hm?” He looks down to his hands, and realises he’s snapped his knife clean in half.

“Were you thinking about Duscar again?” Edelgard asks, sat up on the table itself. With the entire Blue Lions house crowded around the table, there hadn’t been a free seat available for the resident ghost.

Dimitri grunts – a confirmation for El – and says to Sylvain, with an embarrassed chuckle. “I apologise. I got a little lost in my head.”

“Your Highness?” Dedue says. Dimitri leans back on the bench and sees his vassal in a similar position, offering him another knife. Dedue smiles a small smile. “I brought extras.”

Dimitri feels his cheeks go a little pink.

“Thank you, Dedue,” he replies, before returning upright, hoping to pretend his never happened.

Felix’s obvious distaste speaks otherwise. “You need to control your strength before you get someone hurt, _boar.”_

Edelgard winces – “That’s harsh,” she says – while Sylvain rolls his eyes. “Chill out, Felix. It’s not like you don’t break a few training swords yourself.”

This does not placate Felix.

It’s almost like Sylvain knows _exactly _how to fan the flames of Felix’s rage.

(He does.)

“There is a _difference _between breaking a training sword during a spar and a _piece of cutlery at the dining table!” _He fumes.

“How? It’s both a lack of control.”

Felix’s mouth gapes. “Don’t you dare say _I _cannot control myself, Mr. Womaniser!” He’s glaring at Sylvain with all he has and – well –

Dimitri puts a hand to his mouth, trying to cover his snickers. These two – they always get at each other’s throats in the most amusing ways. Felix is very close – if Dimitri is judging correctly – to gripping Sylvain by the back of the neck and shoving him face first into a plate of food.

Sylvain is doing him a favour – Dimitri knows this. So, when in the commotion Sylvain sends a quick wink Dimitri’s way, Dimitri returns it with a short nod.

He’s lucky to have such wonderful friends.

“Dimitri,” Edelgard says suddenly, calling Dimitri to attention. “Look over there.”

Huh?

Dimitri turns – his step-sister is pointing out the door – to see Professor Byleth, stood just outside in the Monastery’s entrance chamber.

But – as briefly as they are in sight, the Professor is gone, walking in the wrong direction and – is that?

“Did they just draw their sword?” Edelgard asks, somewhat bewildered herself. 

“I should go check on them,” Dimitri says aloud, rising to his feet.

Ingrid startles at his side, nearly dropping her fork. “Check on who, Your Highness?” she asks.

Edelgard – jumping down from the table – rolls her eyes. “You shouldn’t reply to me in front of other people, Dimitri.”

Dimitri coughs – self-consciously. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Ingrid. I was merely thinking of checking on the Professor. It has been some time since we saw them last.” He steps out from behind the bench, and begins jogging after Edelgard. “I shall be right back!” Dimitri calls back to the table before he exits the dining hall completely.

He manages to enter the entrance chamber just in time to see the Professor darting down the monastery steps and into the market square – sword indeed drawn.

“Where on earth could the Professor be going…?” Dimitri wonders aloud, his feet carrying him forwards.

“We should follow them,” Edelgard instructs, continuing her momentum down the stairs. “There may be trouble.”

Dimitri watches Edelgard go – her white hair dancing as she runs.

Normally, he would protest. Something like _‘the Professor deserves their privacy.’ _But, in this instance…

Dimitri has a bad feeling about this.

He hurries after Edelgard, making a pointed stop to grab a training spear from the weapon merchant’s stall.

He’ll pay for it later.

The path down the hill is – thankfully – lined with trees and wildlife, making it easy for Dimitri to hide himself from view as the Professor anxiously scouts their way through the woods.

“Is the Professor following someone?” Edelgard wonders aloud – not having to worry about being heard. She runs a little further up the road, and calls back, “They are! I cannot see who, however.”

Dimitri, however, must stay silent, as he tries his hardest to be stealthy. Truthfully, it’s never been one of his best skills. He calls Edelgard back with the wave of his hand, and she comes running.

“What could you see?” Dimitri whispers, using the fact that the Professor has just rounded a corner to his advantage.

Edelgard shakes her head. “Very little. A hunched figure, a dark cloak.”

“This person must be dangerous if the Professor is doing – well – _this.” _

“How can we be sure it is the Professor who is virtuous?” Edelgard challenges. “They have seemed kind so _far, _but – “ Edelgard’s eyes flicker to the road. “Wait, Dimitri, _hide!” _

Dimitri – damn it, he got _distracted _– turns back to the road. He just catches the sight of the Professor coming to a jagged stop and launching themselves behind the tree line.

In a flurry of panic, Dimitri mimics his teacher and flings himself into a nearby bush.

He does so with an unnecessarily loud snap.

_…Oh, shit! _Dimitri thinks, searching for the cause of the sound. He finds it under his foot – a large branch that has snapped in half.

Shit, shit, _shit! _

Dimitri finds himself frozen – obeying nothing but instinct.

_If I stay _perfectly_ still – _

Finally, Dimitri can see who the Professor was following. The hunched figure Edelgard describes titters into view, walking cautiously towards the sound of the noise. They lower their hood to get a clearer frame of vision, revealing their identity and – 

Dimitri finds himself surprised.

“I know you are there,” Tomas speaks. He sounds nothing like how Dimitri remembers – commanding and cold. “Show yourself.”

Dimitri feels his heart skip a beat, but, somehow, Edelgard is gripping his arm tight, as if pleading with him to stay hidden.

Her eyes are wide, and her lifeless cheeks appear even whiter. “We shouldn’t have come,” Edelgard whispers. “Not yet.”

As Tomas takes another step forwards with his cane, all of a sudden the Professor reveals themselves, confidently striding out into the path.

Dimitri lets out a deep breath – one he didn’t know he was holding.

He’s safe – for now. 

“Ah, Professor!” Tomas croaks. His tone has changed, completely. “You frightened me. What brings you out here, so late at night? Not hunting down a helpless old man, I hope,” he quips.

…The Professor remains deathly silent. Their sword glitters in the moonlight – sharp and poised.

Eventually – “I know who you are,” the Professor says.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Edelgard gasps. “Dimitri, they _know…!” _

“Know what?” he hisses back.

“Who am I then, Professor?” Tomas enquires. His fingers dance over his cane.

At the same time, Edelgard says, “I was going to tell you after the mock battle – I swear.”

“Who, El?!”

“Solon,” the Professor breathes at the same time as Edelgard says:

“He’s one of them: Those Who Slither in the Dark.” 

The rage – the _fire _– that Dimitri had temporary placated, locked up tight behind a door in his mind, _burns. _

Solon’s expression twists. “…I see no use in pretending then, Professor. There is nothing that could convince you otherwise, is there?”

“No,” the Professor replies, their voice cold. “I know what you are.”

Solon lunges into a spell.

“Professor!” Dimitri finds himself shouting. He throws himself out of the bushes and – skidding across the ground – swings his spear at Solon.

He connects with Solon’s face, scoring down his forehead and cheek, effectively disrupting the librarian’s spellcasting before it could properly begin.

Solon _howls, _clutching at face, and the festering anger in Dimitri’s heart swells gleefully.

Meanwhile, “Dimitri?!” the Professor cries. “What are you doing here?”

“We can discuss that later, Professor,” Dimitri replies, twirling his spear upright. “For now, we have more pressing issues.”

On cue, “You’ll _pay _for that,” Solon bellows, the skin around his wound peeling away to reveal snow white skin and bulging veins.

His eyes are inky black.

“Stay close,” the Professor orders, once again readying their sword. Dimitri complies with a nod, moving to their side.

“I’ll watch your back,” Edelgard whispers in Dimitri’s ear, and he nods.

And waits.

The calm lasts only a second longer.

All at once, the Professor runs in, taking a swipe at Solon, but he just slides under their blade. He twists upright, crooked and _wrong, _but gathers enough momentum to flick a bolt of thunder at Dimitri.

“To the left!” Edelgard cries, and Dimitri listens, barely dodging in time through the pivot of his spear. Landing upright, Dimitri watches as the Professor aims a pointed blow at Solon’s gut but, in a flash, the man is _gone _and –

“Behind you!” Edelgard calls, just a little too late.

Dimitri spins, readies his spear, but cannot avoid the fireball that collides directly with his hands. 

There is nothing but _heat. _

Dimitri’s spear goes clattering to the forest floor as he goes staggering back, griping at his hands – goddess, it _hurts _– but Dimitri has little time to think as Solon preps another spell to throw his way.

The Professor, panicked, screams his name, pushing themselves into the gap between their student and the enemy, taking a ready stance and raising their sword.

Dimitri – breath heavy – reaches for his spear and his hand only finds dirt.

It’s _gone._

No, no, no, what about the Professor? He needs to _help!_

“Say goodbye, Fell Star!” Solon cackles, raising his fist and –

That’s when the tip of a spear – _Dimitri’s _spear – bursts through Solon’s chest in a splatter of blood.

_Who - ? _

The weapon does not remain lodged for long. The old man screams as the spear is pulled out, coughing up blood, and he collapses to the floor, revealing _Edelgard _stood behind him, holding the training spear in her hands.

She smirks at Dimitri. “It appears I am not so powerless after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'mMA EXPLAIN OKAY  
just  
later  
*peaces out*


	5. enemy of my enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehhhhh im not overly pleased with this chapter but it might be because i've read it too many times but i'd rather get it out and then come back to work on it then just delay writing the rest of the fic so hereeeeeeeeeeeee you go i guess???  
again, thank you all for your support and kudos and lovely comments!!!!!   
i've got more and more plans solidifying for this fic and i fear its going to be longer than i originally planned - as is always the way '-_-  
enjoy!! <3

Byleth's day has officially gone from bad to just plain weird.

First of all Dimitri shows up out of the blue when Byleth is intent on committing murder, but then the Prince decides to join their cause, then nearly gets himself killed, but now?

Now Byleth is staring at Solon's corpse and _a floating spear._

Dimitri's spear _is defying gravity…! _

Byleth is from the future - they're supposed to be the one that knows what's going on. Instead, they don't know what the _fuck_ is going on.

“…What the fuck is going on?” Byleth mutters, the comment aimed vaguely in Dimitri’s direction.

Behind them, their student is knelt, his mouth agape. His eyes dart up to Byleth, and then across to his weapon.

“…I swear, Professor, I can explain.”

All at once, the spear drops to the forest floor.

Byleth jumps at the noise, darting around and –

There’s still no one there.

How…?

They’d argue it could be a levitation spell, except for the fact that there certainly aren’t any other people in the vicinity, Solon wouldn’t stab himself, Dimitri has the magical talent of a door knob, and _Byleth _themselves most definitely wasn’t behind it.

…Byleth hesitantly nudges Sothis in their mind.

The goddess squawks. “It certainly wasn’t me! Just ask the boy!”

Byleth grips the bridge of their nose. “From the top, please, Dimitri.”

There’s a beat. “…I’m going to sound crazy,” Dimitri says, rising to his feet. His eyes keep darting to his left, his attention seemingly diverted.

_No crazier than my life, I’m sure, _Byleth thinks.

“Try me,” they assure, sheathing their sword.

The danger – at least – has passed. 

“Are you sure?” Dimitri asks again.

“Yes.”

Dimitri grits his teeth.

Opens his mouth –

And closes it again, brow furrowed.

In the back of Byleth’s mind, Sothis groans. “This is going to take all night. Just explain the…” she yawns “…situation to me in the… morninggg…” Then there is silence once more, as Dimitri continues to gape his mouth like a fish.

_I wish _I_ could nap my way out of this conversation, _Byleth thinks, bitterly.

Thanks, Sothis. _Thanks. _

Yet, suddenly, Dimitri’s head darts forwards, effectively snapping him out of his deliberation, as if he’d been – smacked?

“Ow!” Dimitri hisses, rubbing at the back of his head. “That was uncalled for,” he continues, glaring into the trees. 

Byleth blinks.

Um?

“I didn’t do anything. How…?”

_It really did look like someone hit him…_

“I’m being haunted by the spirit of Edelgard, okay, Professor?” Dimitri finally blurts. “She’s been with me since she – since – for a _while _now. Constantly, in fact.” 

If Byleth’s heart had the capacity to beat, it would have stopped here and now.

_What. _

_Edel…?_

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Byleth says instead, taking a staggering step back. 

_This can’t be real, she can’t be here, not after –_

Yet, Dimitri laughs, bitterly. “I didn’t think so myself until recently. But, looking back on my life… it is strangely the most logical conclusion.”

Byleth feels something in themself shatter. They didn’t know they could feel more broken.

“…Edelgard is here? Now?”

Dimitri nods. “The spear, killing Solon… That was her.”

Byleth swallows. “Can she do it again?”

_I need proof, more proof, oh goddess, this can’t be - ! _

“Pick up the spear?” Dimitri asks, turning to the air. “El?”

There is silence, and Byleth watches their student’s eyes trail over _something _in the wind.

After a few more beats of nothing, Dimitri shakes his head. “She can’t. Honestly, I’m not sure how Edelgard did it in the first place. She’s never succeeded in picking up objects before.”

It’s when Dimitri walks up to his weapon, reaching down for it, that Byleth notices his _hands. _

They gasp, surveying the burns. They’re bad – at least second degree. Did Solon’s magic hit the boy this hard?

This may be a – a _distraction _for them, in the face of – but _damn it._

Byleth silently marches over and stands in front of Dimitri, offering up their palms. “Your hands,” they command.

“My - ? Oh,” Dimitri says sheepishly. “I took my gauntlets off to eat dinner, and forgot to put them back on when I left. It was incredibly foolish of me.”

Byleth raises a brow, expectant.

“Uh, yes, okay,” Dimitri continues, raising his hands and resting them in the Professor’s.

Byleth stares down, mutters some words under their breath, and concentrates.

After a few seconds warm glow begins shine.

Dimitri does a double take.

“When did you start learning healing magic, Professor?” he asks. “You’re very good at it. I’m feeling better already.”

Byleth sighs. “...About two weeks ago. I didn’t – ” Byleth has to swallow the truth “ – want to be caught off guard again.”

_I wanted to feel like my hands were capable of more than killing. _

They keep their eyes fixed on their work.

The burns are beginning to recede, at least.

“…When I said this afternoon that Edelgard wouldn’t want you to blame yourself, Professor,” Dimitri says, “it wasn’t just hearsay. She told me herself.”

_Edelgard is here. She’s here, she’s here, she’s here – _

Byleth’s eyes feel painfully dry. “I will always blame myself, Dimitri,” they say. “I could have done so much more.”

Dimitri stays silent. Byleth risks glancing up. He’s frowning.

“…I’m not saying that, El,” Dimitri speaks after a moment. “No, I will not call the Professor _that_!”

Their student glares defiantly at the air – 

But, eventually – he groans.

“Edelgard says you’re being foolish,” Dimitri reports. “And that is the polite version.”

Strangely, Byleth feels a laugh bubble out of them.

_That’s the Edelgard I remember. _

They want to cry.

Dimitri hums. “She’s trying to draw your sword now. Failing, again.”

Byleth looks down to her sheath – sees nothing.

Trying not to feel disappointed, they turn their gaze back to inspecting Dimitri’s hands. The glow of faith magic fades when Byleth deems there’s little more for them to do. “That should be the worst of it – though I would like to bandage them when we get back to the monastery anyway – ”

For the fraction of a second, Byleth feels a hand grace pass their hip where their sword lies.

They _freeze. _

Instinctively, Byleth drops Dimitri’s hands and takes a step back. “I felt her,” they whisper, wide eyed. “Did Edelgard try to draw my sword again?”

Dimitri’s mouth drops. “She – she did. El?” He watches… “Did you feel that?” Dimitri asks.

Byleth glances down – frowns. “No.”

“Hm,” Dimitri ponders, a hand on his chin. “What’s the difference? One time you feel Edelgard’s touch, another you don’t…”

Once Edelgard can pick up a weapon, another she can’t.

Byleth is still trying to wrap their head around the fact that Edelgard’s _here, _let alone _this. _

Dimitri is pacing now, still mumbling away.

_How is it he can even see her?_ Byleth thinks. _What makes him so _special?

Special…

Oh!

“I have an idea,” Byleth says.

This draws Dimitri’s attention. He halts, tilts towards them. “Yes?”

Byleth holds out their hand, once again. “Take this.”

Dimitri – goes a little red? “Your hand?” he questions. 

“Yes. I have a theory.”

“...If you’re sure, Professor,” he says, and Dimitri trickles over, taking Byleth’s hand in his. His ears are burning.

“Now,” Byleth says. “E – Edelgard,” they address to the air, “touch me.”

Byleth hears Dimitri suck in a breath, and, then, feels the weight of palm press against their chest.

Their breath hitches.

“It’s _you, _Dimitri,” Byleth realises. “Your presence, somehow, makes Edelgard more powerful.” This is _crazy _but – “Here,” Byleth says, drawing their sword and passing it to Dimitri. “Try and get Edelgard to hold it now.”

Byleth feels like they’re running on pure adrenaline alone.

Dimitri’s eyes flicker up – then down again. Gingerly, he reaches out and grasps the weapon by the hilt. He turns to his right, holds out the weapon and –

When his hands retract, the sword hovers in the air, if only for a second, before dropping to the ground.

The secret is _Dimitri. _

“…_Oh,” _is all Dimitri manages to squeak out as a response.

They decide to drop Solon’s body into the river running away from the monastery.

It’s not like they can leave it here for the monastery guards to find in the morning. If they were to find him, still looking relatively like Tomas, there would be an investigation that might come to put Dimitri and Byleth in hot water. Not that there won’t be, the librarian will _still _be missing, but –

“Edelgard wants more time,” Dimitri insists, as they watch the corpse float downstream. “She says that getting the church involved would likely alert Those Who Slither in the Dark, and they may adjust their plans accordingly.”

Byleth had agreed – readily.

If too much changes too quickly, their advantage – of knowing what is to come – would be useless.

This whole – _incident _will come to light eventually, but, maybe selfishly, Byleth wants more time too.

“How did you know, Professor?” Dimitri asks, as they start to turn back to the monastery. “About who Tomas really was? Edelgard is rather curious and, I have to say, I am too.”

Oh, shit, Byleth didn’t expect to have to lie about this.

“I – will admit I have not heard of Those Who Slither in the Dark before,” Byleth begins. This, at least, not a lie. “But I received… _intel _from some of my mercenary sources – just after I was hired – that there was a rotten force lurking in the monastery.” A convincing enough falsity, Byleth hopes?

“Ah, that makes sense,” Dimitri observes with a nod. Byleth lets go of a breath they didn’t know they were holding. “I assume Captain Jeralt is also aware of this, then?”

Uh.

“No,” Byleth is forced to admit. “I didn’t want to involve him in this because…” because, because… Ah! “…because he already has his own suspicions regarding the church. I didn’t want his pre-established biases to cloud his judgement.”

_Phew. _

“…Edelgard says I should inform you what Those Who Slither in the Dark have done,” Dimitri starts again, after a moments pause. His fists clench. “They have hurt so many _people, _including Edelgard and – and as I have recently learned, _myself. _To think, they have murdered so many _innocents…” _

Something dark comes to shadow over Dimitri. His hair hangs over his eyes, his shoulders taut.

Distantly, Byleth remembers their initial observation of Dimitri, so long ago…

Sincere, but with something menacing hidden within.

Byleth reaches out, placing a hand on his student’s shoulder. “We’ll avenge them, Dimitri. Everyone.” A tether.

Dimitri takes a shaky breath, and his head rises. “Where should we start, Professor?”

“…I may have a few ideas.”

Byleth leaves Dimitri at the entrance to the student dormitories.

It’s late now, the whole monastery asleep, dreaming, and as such it is not hard to slip in unnoticed. 

Dimitri, always courteous, tries to insist on walking Byleth to their room, but they shake their head. “I’ll be fine, Dimitri. Goodnight,” they say with a – hopefully reassuring – smile.

Byleth lasts until they reach their room. It’s there that they crumble into a sobbing mess.

_What kind of existence have I cursed you to, Edelgard? _is the only thought in their mind.


	6. candle smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo all!!!
> 
> this chapter took a bit longer than i would have liked - sorry about that! i was on a research trip for my dissertation and that took up a lot of time. but its done now!!!
> 
> thank you all, once again, for the lovely comments and the many kudos and i hope you enjoy this chapter!!!
> 
> (man, have i been waiting to write this >:3c )

It’s about midnight by the time Dimitri climbs to his floor in the student dormitories.

Dimitri just knows he’s not going to get a wink of sleep tonight. His mind is racing from the information overload – everything he’s learnt about the Professor, Edelgard and himself rattling around his brain.

Even Edelgard is silent as she paces next to him, her jaw set in a firm line. There’s so much to discuss but, for now, there’s an uneasy silence as the pair remain quiet in their contemplation.

The hallway passes in a blur of rooms. Edelgard’s eyes flicker towards her own as they pass – is there anything in there that may help in their pursuit of Those Who Slither? Dimitri wonders – but its Hubert’s room that she lingers before.

Dimitri halts, waiting.

Edelgard stares at the door so… longingly?

Eventually, she returns to Dimitri with a shake of her head.

“Later,” she says.

Dimitri doesn’t quite know what that means, but he lets it pass.

They reach Dimitri’s room a few paces later and, soon enough, he’s reaching for the door handle, more than ready for this day to be over –

When he hears a giggle coming from next door.

Sylvain’s room.

…_It’s probably just another one of Sylvain’s nightly escapades, _Dimitri rationalises, going to enter his room again.

But Edelgard stops him.

“Wait…” she says. She paces over to Sylvain’s room. “I think I can hear…”

Then Edelgard sticks her head _through the door. _

Dimitri recoils from the sight.

“El!” he chastises at a stage-whisper. “What in _Fódlan’s name _are you _doing?!” _

Edelgard’s top half rematerializes into view. She’s _grinning. _“Knock on the door,” she orders. 

“No?” Dimitri replies. “Under no circumstances do I want to see what is going on in _there.” _

Hearing it through the wall is often enough for Dimitri.

Edelgard rolls her eyes, and reaches out to take Dimitri’s hand. It startles him – even now – when her touch connects, and Edelgard uses this to her advantage, dragging Dimitri over to Sylvain’s door.

“Knock,” she repeats.

“No!” Dimitri echoes.

Something’s telling him this whole situation is going to give him a headache. Edelgard looks _far _too pleased with himself.

“If _you’re _not going to knock,” she says, “then…”

Edelgard finishes her sentence by knocking a succinct rhythm on Sylvain’s door before Dimitri even has the time to realise what’s happening.

How did she touch – ?

Oh shit, he hasn’t let go of her hand!

_Betrayal! _Dimitri’s mind screams.

The door swings open before Dimitri can even _glare _at Edelgard.

“Your highness!” Sylvain whispers, standing in the doorway. “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting!” With that, Dimitri is forcibly yanked into the room.

“What is going _on, _Sylvain?” he grumbles, stumbling to stay upright – something hard to do when the room is barely lit, the only source of light coming from a candles scattered in the corners. From the glow, Dimitri can see his housemates huddled on the floor around what looks like some kind of board game.

“We,” Sylvain says with a wicked grin, “are having a _séance.”_

...Oh no.

Edelgard peaks into his vision from behind Sylvain, blinking at him so _innocently. _

Oh _no._

“I’m going to tell the Professor you’re all out of bed,” Dimitri deadpans, trying to turn back to the exit.

“Aww, we’re just having a little fun!” Annette moans – at the same time that Sylvain pulls Dimitri back by his cape.

“I – I dunno, guys. Are we really sure this is a good idea?” Ashe stutters out from where he’s hiding behind Dedue.

“I, for one, think this is foolish,” Dedue agrees. “I am only here, Your Highness, so that I could ensure you made it back safely to your room tonight.”

“Yeah, where were you?” Ingrid asks. She’s sat cross legged on the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. “We were worried.”

_Uh. _

“I lost track of time talking to the Professor,” Dimitri tries.

_It’s not a total lie? _

Sylvain’s head pops in over Dimitri’s shoulder. “Just _talking, _were we?”

He waggles his eyebrows, and Dimitri feels his cheeks go pink.

Felix kicks Sylvain in the leg from his position on the floor. “Stop teasing the boar so we can get on with this stupid séance and go to bed already.”

“Fineee,” Sylvain sighs, plodding over to Felix and dropping to the floor next to him.

He pats the free space next to him, staring at Dimitri.

Dimitri sets his jaw.

“I’m going to stay even if you don’t,” Edelgard challenges.

…

Damn it.

“At least if I’m here I can monitor the situation,” Dimitri grumbles, reluctantly sitting down.

Sylvain whoops.

“Tonight,” he begins, “we seek to contact the spirit that I saw at the training grounds last week. We shall do so using _this!” _he dramatically gestures towards the board in the centre of the circle. Dimitri leans in to inspect it, seeing the alphabet written out with a small wooden counter-piece resting on top. “If everyone would now place their hands on our channel to the spirits?”

The Blue Lions comply with varying levels of enthusiasm. Ashe is now trembling so hard it’s visible, while Mercedes is perhaps a little _too _calm with the current situation.

Dimitri, however, keeps his hands very much to himself.

_I shall not fall for your tricks a second time, El! _Dimitri rallies to himself while glaring whole heartedly at his step-sister.

He shall _not _give her the power to touch the counter and meddle with his housemates!

Mercedes picks up his hand and places it on top of the counter.

_Failure already! _Dimitri mourns internally.

He goes to snatch his hand away – but –

“Please, Dimitri?” Mercedes asks, batting her eyelids. “It’ll be harmless, I promise.”

_It certainly will _not _be harmless! _

Mercedes hand comes to sit on top of his. “There have been tough times for us all at the monastery so far. Let us all have a little fun, just for tonight.”

There are many layers to Mercedes’ words, a deeper softness under the kindness.

She’s looking out for them all.

Dimitri, with horror, realises he can’t turn down her request without appearing downright cruel.

Edelgard _laughs. _“Checkmate, Dimitri,” she says, eagerly rubbing her hands together. “Check. Mate.”

Dimitri hates his life.

He places his other free hand – begrudgingly – over Mercedes’.

She beams.

“Oh, spirits!” Sylvain is already continuing. “We call you to our séance! Are you here with us now?”

Edelgard leans over Dimitri and places her hand onto the pile. Dimitri feels the connection and, with a tether to the physical world, Edelgard moves their joint hands. ‘Y-E-S’ she spells out.

Ashe _screams, _wrenching himself away from the board and directly into Dedue’s lap.

(Dedue appears bemused, but not displeased by this turn of events.)

"There’s a gh – gho – _there’s a ghost in here!”_

“Shhhh!” Ingrid hisses, finger to her lips, while:

“It might be a friendly ghost?” Annette suggests.

“_It _is probably just Sylvain moving the playing piece,” Felix grumbles – but is promptly ignored.

“Spirit?” Mercedes addresses – unknowingly to Edelgard. “Are you friendly?”

Edelgard seems to think over this matter. Perhaps it is Dimitri’s persisting glare that has her spell ‘Y-E-S’ again.

“See, Ashe?” Annette says, nudging Ashe’s knee. “The ghost is nice! What’s your name, spirit?”

_For the love of Fódlan, please don’t say your actual name, El, _Dimitri silently begs, watching as Edelgard moves the piece around the board…

‘R-O-S-E-L-L-E,’ she spells.

Oh thank the goddess.

“Roselle…” Ingrid hums. “That’s an inventive choice, Sylvain.”

Sylvain squawks. “It’s not me! I promise! Go on, ask a question!”

Ingrid puts her free hand to her chin. “Roselle,” she begins, still eyeing Sylvain, “are you the ghost that Sylvain saw at the training grounds?”

‘Y-E-S.’

“See!” Sylvain cries.

Ingrid shakes her head – long suffering. “Okay, _Roselle, _what were you doing at the Monastery training grounds, then?”

Unfortunately, Dimitri has some idea of what Edelgard is going to say before she presents it.

‘I-D-I-E-D-T-H-E-R-E.’

“Ooo, spooky,” Felix deadpans. “How’d you die, Sylvain?”

“I told you it’s not me!” Sylvain repeats. He actually looks a little freaked out, Dimitri realises.

Edelgard really owes him for this one. Speak of the devil, Edelgard really seems to be thinking over her next answer. As she considers her options, Sylvain yanks his hand out from the pile. “I’ll prove it. I can’t move the playing piece if I’m not touching it. Go on, Roselle, how did you die?” he asks, and Edelgard, having settled on her answer, happily complies.

‘R-H-E-A,’ she spells out.

The room goes deathly silent.

Dimitri’s mouth gapes.

Oh, he’s so fucked.

“That’s highly inappropriate,” he says aloud, pulling his hand away. “Whoever wrote that should feel _ashamed.” _

Edelgard looks anything but ashamed of herself. In fact, she _winks _at Dimitri.

The candles on the floor start to flicker.

“Rhea… killed Roselle…?” Ashe whimpers.

“Roselle isn’t _real,_” Felix argues, but –

“But Sylvain didn’t write that message, and I’m sure no one else did,” Mercedes counters. “…Though I do find it highly unlikely that the Archbishop could do something so horrible.”

Dimitri shivers, surveying the room.

It’s suddenly gotten cold?

“Heh…” Dimitri hears a voice say. “I’ve found you…”

He frowns. “Did you hear that?” he asks.

The circle turns to him, and varying expressions of confusion blink at him. “Hear what, Your Highness?” Dedue questions.

“I did,” Edelgard replies. “It sounded like – ”

The room goes pitch black, and erupts into chaos.

"WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Ashe wails, as the cackling gets louder in Dimitri's ears. 

At the same time, "What the fuck!" Sylvain shouts, and:

"Who blew the stupid shitting candles out?!" Felix cries, having jumped to his feet. 

"This isn't me, Dimitri," Edelgard says - sounding panicked herself. Dimitri rubs his eyes, his sight adjusting.

His breath catches in his throat. 

_Solon _looms over them, the hole in his chest oozing over, _reaching._

"El!" Dimitri blurts, gripping Edelgard by the shoulders and tugging her out of harm's way.

Solon's hand brushes the floor instead, his fingertips dipping through the wood. 

The door bursts open.

"Will you cease with your incessant noise already?!" Dimitri hears Hubert hiss, as Claude whistles:

"Man, what kind of orgy are you guys _having?" _

Dimitri, however, has no time to spare for explanations. Solon is on his tail and Dimitri's mind is _racing. _

They killed him! He's -

It's then that Dimitri realises no one else in the room has acknowledged Solon's presence. Their reactions are to the dark and the cold alone. 

Solon's _dead._

"El, we have made a grave error," Dimitri says as quietly as he physically can. 

"Right you did, boy," Solon coos. "I have been searching for you ever since I woke up, and your little séance brought me right to you. It was like a beacon in the dark!"

Meanwhile, "We're not having an orgy, Claude!" Ingrid chastises. "Sylvain convinced us to have a séance, and it got a little out of hand, that's all."

"You have our deepest apologies for the noise," Dedue says, with the bow of his head. 

But, "It's a shame I won't be able to kill anyone else here but you, Dimitri," Solon is sighing. "Still, once you're dead, I can have all the fun I want torturing Edelgard."

Solon pounces. 

Dimitri has to launch to his feet to avoid a collision, throwing himself into the centre of the circle. 

_Do I fight back? Risk being seen punching the air? Everyone will think I'm mad. I could hit a friend! But if I don't -_

Dimitri spends too much time overthinking his decision. 

Solon comes at Dimitri from behind, phasing through Felix and knocking Dimitri to the floor. A sharp pain rattles through his body, his head bats against the hard wood, and then Dimitri can't _breathe. _

Solon's hands are clenched around his throat, leaving Dimitri gasping for breath. 

"Woah!" Dimitri distantly hears Claude say. "Are you alright, Dimitri?"

"Get your hands off him!" Edelgard growls, ripping at the back of Solon's cloak. She's struggling to push him off, however, her hands not finding enough purchase. 

There is something deeply inhuman about Solon, something Dimitri knew but didn't quite understand until the man was squeezing down on his throat with inhuman strength. 

Solon’s eyes a dark, pitch black, gleaming with malice.

If he was alone, Dimitri would likely be able to push his attacker away, but there are too many people in this small space, he can't find an escape route and, oh goddess, _he can't breathe - !_

"Uh, guys?" Annette says shakily. "Dimitri's not breathing."

The room clatters into silence.

_"...Mer-ce-deeeeeees!" _Ashe blares. "It's the ghost! The ghost is killing Dimitri! Get the book out! _Get the book out!" _

"He's having a fit!" Felix shouts. "We need Manuela, not a stupid exorcism!"

Suddenly, Solon's across the room, through Sylvain's desk. Edelgard stands where he once was, her foot still raised from kicking the snake as far as she could. 

The air rushes into Dimitri's lungs. "Exorcism!" he coughs out. "I was being strangled! Mercedes, _read!" _

"R-right!" Mercedes says, as she flicks through a book - one Dimitri has just remembers had been sitting on the bed all night. It's tattered and worn, and Dimitri has _no _clue if what’s in it has _any _chance of working but there's one thing Dimitri knows for sure. 

Reaching out, he takes Edelgard's arm and her attention, and mouths, _'Run.' _

Edelgard flies out through the door, passing through Claude and Hubert as she goes, just as Solon finishes rising to his feet. 

"Insolent girl!" he snaps. "Running will not save her. Once your corpse graces this world I shall stalk her across this mortal plain until - "

_"Sothis, principium omnis!" _Mercedes chants. “_Defende nos in proelio contra nequitiam et insidias_ _manis!”_

Solon's image flickers. 

"What is - ?" he groans, gripping at his head. 

Mercedes continues. _"Divina virtute, in infernum spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, detrude. Dea illa imperet, supplices deprecamur!”_

A golden pulse of light bursts out of Mercedes, circling throughout the room, and when it collides with Solon he _screams. _

It's loud, so deafening loud that Dimitri lets out a sharp cry of pain, covering his ears, but it's not just him. The whole room recoils from the shriek as echoes around the room until Solon's image bursts into a ball of dark light dissipates. 

In an instant, all the noise is gone, the candles flick back on, and it’s like nothing ever happened.

"...Am I dreaming?" Claude asks. "I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming."

Dimitri resists the urge to bang his head against the wall. 

If _only. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:   
I had Mercedes use Latin to banish Solon since 1. it's always being used in fantasy worlds as the language of magic and eh why reinvent the wheel and 2. I can decently read Latin so it was easy for me to adapt for this. I even made sure it was gramatically correct lksjfklsdfhlasha
> 
> So, I editted a version of The Prayer to Saint Michael into a Fodlan ghost banishment. 
> 
> Here's what it means:  
'Sothis, the beginning of all things! Defend us in battle against the wickedness and traps of the dead! By divine virtue, banish into hell the evil spirits who who prowl through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Let the goddess rebuke them, we humbly pray." 
> 
> ALSO I KNOW THIS ISN'T TECHINCALLY AN EXORCISM SINCE SOLON ISN'T POSSESSING ANYONE/ISN'T A DEMON IT WAS just easier for the characters to refer to it as such lmao


	7. haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i'm sorry this took such a horribly long time :,( 
> 
> I'm back at uni now - hence the delay - but i've been slowly working on this chapter over the past few weeks!!! I really do want to keep up with this fic, updates may just be slower now since I have other work to do..... heh.... heheh..... -_-
> 
> thank you, once again, for all your support!!!! i'm going to get onto responding to last chapters comments now. 
> 
> hope you're all having a good day <3

Byleth doesn’t find Dimitri down at breakfast the next morning.

It’s probably nothing to worry about – he probably just ate earlier – but Byleth _does _want to talk to him about what happened yesterday.

They go to continue their search of the boy somewhere else when they spot the rest of the Blue Lions huddled over the table in the corner, Claude in tow.

That’s when Byleth’s ‘my-students-are-definitely-up-to-something’ sense tingles.

…They may have to go check this out.

It’s Ingrid that picks up on Byleth’s approach first – something that’s not particularly hard to do since the dining hall is emptier than usual since the Black Eagles are out on a mission. Ingrid whips her head around back to the group, her plait nearly hitting Felix in the face, and begins engaging in the whispering. Whatever she says moves the group into action.

All at once, they sit as upright as trees and begin gingerly picking at their food. Sylvain is the one to say, at a very much louder than appropriate volume, “Wow, the bread today sure is _fresh!_”

“My, Sylvain, it truly is!” Claude teases, at a similar volume.

“My, that’s very suspicious,” Sothis purrs, dangling in the air next to Byleth. 

Now Byleth _definitely _has to check this out.

“Good morning,” they call over to the Blue Lions (plus Claude.) Ashe visibly jumps in his seat at the greeting, as if surprised by their presence. Byleth thought Ingrid made their approach quite clear? “How are you all this morning?” Byleth continues.

The group collectively _sweats. _

“N-nothing, Professor!” Annette stutters. “Just eating breakfast! Like people do in the morning. _Totally _normal behaviour.”

“I still think we should tell them,” Ashe whispers to Dedue – who is sullenly poking at his porridge. It’s odd to see the boy apart from his Prince. Did they get into an argument? Byleth wonders.

“Tell me what?” they instead respond to Ashe.

“There’s _nothing _to tell!” Sylvain nervously laughs. Ashe then yelps – presumably because Sylvain has just kicked him under the table.

Felix, as usual, spills the beans. “Sylvain hosted a stupid séance in his room last night and Dimitri had a fit during it but these idiots wouldn’t let me go get Manuela because they thought he was being _attacked by a fucking_ _ghost._”

…Oh no.

“Is he alright?” Byleth asks. “There was something I needed to discuss with him, but I haven’t been able to find him.”

Before anyone can respond to this question, however, “It _was _a ghost!” Ashe protests. “Dimitri says he was being strangled!”

Strangled?

“Damn it, Ashe! We weren’t going to tell the professor!” Sylvain moans, hanging his head back.

Byleth blinks. “Why not?”

“Because it sounds insane,” Ingrid picks up. “Normally, I’d be agreeing with Felix, but last night was, well…” She fiddles with the ends of her hair. “The only way to describe last night is supernatural.”

“There wasn’t a ghost!” Felix snaps. “None of us saw _anything _but Dimitri _in need of a fucking healer.” _

“Dimitri saw something, though!” Mercedes interjects. “And the banishment spell I used seemed to have a positive effect.”

Okay, Byleth _really _needs to find Dimitri, they conclude.

“The rest of you are okay?” they interject.

There’s a series of nervous but clear affirmatives.

“…And what did _you _have to do with this, Claude?” Byleth can’t help but ask. They didn’t think the boy was particularly close with the Blue Lions – not before this, at least.

“Oh, me?” Claude grins. “I’m just here for the show.”

…Yes, that’s never a good sign.

Byleth nods – begrudgingly. “Then I’m going to find Dimitri and take him to Manuela, just in case. None of you are in trouble, just no more séances, okay?”

No, no more séances.

Not with Edelgard running around.

“I give it a week before they host another one,” Sothis chimes as they leave the dining hall.

Byleth searches practically the entire monastery before they find Dimitri.

He’s at the graveyard – of all places – sat cross legged on the ground in front of what Byleth knows is their mother’s grave. He’s picking at the grass, head down, largely silent.

Yet, as they approach, Byleth hears whispers from him as he speaks to Edelgard.

Their heart flips.

“Dimitri?” Byleth calls before their mind spirals.

The prince startles, his head shooting up. He relaxes soon after, however.

“Ah, Professor,” Dimitri sighs. “That’s a relief. I was worried for a moment one of my housemates had found me.”

It clicks.

“Ah, I get it,” Byleth says, pacing through the grass over to their student. “You think none of them will come to a graveyard after the séance-gone-wrong last night.”

Dimitri winces. “So you have already heard about it?”

“I’m afraid so,” they say – sympathetically at least. They’re pretty sure Dimitri would have vehemently protested the idea.

As if echoing their thoughts, “I tried to stop them, Professor,” Dimitri says, as Byleth lowers themself to sit down on the grass next to him. “But they wouldn’t listen! And Edelgard said she was going to stay no matter if I did or not, so I thought it best to remain as to monitor the situation.” His attention turns back to the ground, and with a glare he rips a large chunk of grass from the earth. “My presence may have only made things worse, however.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look quite so miserable before,” Sothis whispers in Byleth’s ear. She stands next to Dimitri and – fruitlessly – tries to pet the boy’s hair. “What on earth could have happened?”

So, “What happened?” Byleth asks softly, intent on finding out just that.

“…Solon,” Dimitri answers quietly. “I don’t know when his ghost appeared, but he was able to find me because of the séance. He tried to strangle me – ” Dimitri pulls down the collar of his shirt, revealing long and twisted bruises, a horrible purple – “and threatened to torture Edelgard. Mercedes managed to banish him, somehow.”

“Oh, the poor _boy,” _Sothis breathes, inspecting the bruises.

“Is Edelgard okay?” Byleth asks while she does so.

Dimitri nods. “I had her leave the room before Mercedes cast her charm. She got far enough away that she wasn’t affected.”

That’s a relief.

“…So you can see ghosts other than Edelgard?” Byleth asks, tentative. They thought so, before, but now it’s confirmed.

Dimitri stays quiet for a moment. His shoulders hunch. “Yes,” is all he says.

“Can you see anyone else now?”

The Prince shakes his head. “Thankfully not. Though, I am somewhat surprised. I was scared if I stayed here long enough…”

This is when Byleth remembers they’re sitting in a graveyard of all places.

Ah.

“Perhaps if you waited here for a few more hours?” Byleth hazards a guess. “Your presence and touch _does _seem to make Edelgard stronger… So,” they rise to their feet, offer Dimitri a hand, “perhaps we should return to the world of the living before we acquire any more pesky ghosts?”

Dimitri gazes up at them, at their hand.

Something flickers in his eyes.

Eventually, he takes it.

“Edelgard says she finds that comment offensive, by the way.”

Byleth laughs and leads Dimitri out of the graveyard. 

He appears lighter with every step away.

They make it to the entrance way with no fuss.

Although…

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea for me to socialise with my house mates right now,” Dimitri says, twisting his hands together. “They’re going to ask questions I cannot answer.”

“I can tell them it _was _a fit?” Byleth offers. “That may get Claude and Sylvain off your back a bit.”

“No, please don’t,” Dimitri says with the shake of his head. “That will only make _Dedue _worry and he worries about me enough already.”

Hmm.

Byleth doesn’t get the opportunity to offer any more suggestions. 

This is when the Black Eagles return from their mission, and they all look _shaken. _

Manuela leads the group, pale as a sheet, and Caspar and Linhardt huddle close behind her. Bernadetta is shivering from fear, skittering away in the direction of her room, Petra chasing after her, while Dorothea and Ferdinand talk in hushed whispers.

Soon, Byleth has an inkling as to why.

At the far rear of the group walks Hubert, covered head to toe in blood, his eyes dull and lifeless.

Sothis gasps at their side, and Byleth distantly recognises Dimitri taking a staggering step back, but their ears are ringing and Byleth can’t stop looking at this _boy _who looks like he’s just survived a blood bath.

Hubert storms right past the two of them, his mind a world away. 

Goddess, what must Edelgard be thinking?

“Go find the Blue Lions,” Byleth commands to Dimitri. “I’ll find out what happened.”

Normally, Byleth thinks, Dimitri would protest, want to know the ins and out of what’s going on in the monastery.

This time? Dimitri is shaken enough that he scurries away with a simple nod of his head.

Byleth is glad he’s not going to see what they have planned next.

“_Rhea!” _Byleth cries, bursting into the archbishop’s chambers, officially on a war path.

The Archbishop herself, as composed as ever, only turns, slowly at that, as if agitated by a light breeze.

It rubs Byleth the wrong way.

“What mission did you send the Black Eagles on?” They ask – no, _demand _to know. “Hubert is _covered _in blood and the rest of the students look traumatised!”

“Did you not know, Professor?” Rhea hums with the tilt of her head. “I thought I asked Seteth to inform you? Ah, perhaps I forgot. My apologies.”

“Where did they go?” Byleth persists.

“I sent them after the remaining bandits from the attack on Remire village.”

Byleth’s breath catches.

She _didn’t! _

“You sent the Black Eagles after Edelgard’s killers?!” Byleth practically screeches.

Oh, god, Kostas was there. Byleth didn’t get a chance to catch him, not in this timeline.

Does that mean Hubert - ?

“They deserved to avenge their fallen comrade,” Rhea says, silky smooth. Her face does not twitch from its reserved smile.

“They’re _students!” _Byleth shouts. “For some of them, this was their first combat!”

_I know them better than you, _Byleth wants to say. _I was their teacher. I know how Hubert will have ripped Kostas limb from limb. What that sight will do to the others. _

“Be careful, Byleth,” Sothis hisses. “We cannot provoke Rhea too much, not now. We need her allegiance.”

Byleth grits their teeth.

“It was a poor decision to send them to clean up our mess,” they says, ignoring Sothis, too angry to do otherwise.

Finally, Rhea’s tone is cold. “What’s done, is done,” she says. Byleth can see it – barely, but it’s there – the slight narrowing of her eyes.

There is a stalemate of silence. 

The door creaks open again.

“Bye?” A voice calls.

Byleth turns to see their father and Seteth, faces poking around the doorway. Their expressions give nothing away.

“I got some reports to go over with you,” Jeralt says. “Is now a good time?”

_Please stop what you’re doing, _is Jeralt’s silent plea.

And, “If you’re done, I have some matters to discuss with the Archbishop,” Seteth adds, his tone clipped. It is – still – an offered escape route.

Byleth considers their options.

Rhea is wrong – Byleth _knows _it in their bones. But even so, they know challenging the Archbishop now, so early in the game, is risky. What if she decides Byleth is a pawn not worth playing with?

At the same time…

“Let us hope you don’t come to regret your decision, Archbishop,” Byleth says before turning away and marching out of the room.

They don’t stop to wait for Jeralt, knowing he won’t be far behind. Instead, Byleth ploughs straight on in the direction of the Captain’s Quarters, only stopping when they collide and collapse with one of the sofas. With a huff, they cross their arms and glare at the doorway, waiting.

“That was foolish!” Sothis moans, plonking herself down next to Byleth. “I know you’re upset, I am too, but it was still _foolish!” _

Byleth thinks it was quite worth it, actually.

They decide not to acknowledge Sothis’ words, instead picking at their nails.

Sothis sulks. “Fine then! Be that way!”

She’s gone in a flash, the same second Jeralt comes trailing in.

“Geez,” he says, closing the door behind him. “What in Fódlan was all that about?”

“Rhea sent the Black Eagles after Kostas,” Byleth spits. “Hubert came back _drenched _in blood. I went to give her a piece of my mind.” 

“Oh,” Jeralt replies. “The man who…?”

Byelth nods.

Their father grimaces. “That’s a horrible job… The poor kids.” He collapses on the couch across from Byleth, spreads his arms over the back. “…You okay, Bye?”

“I’m _angry,” _Byleth admits.

“I mean – ” Jeralt pauses, considering his words. “Bye, you’ve been acting… _different _since we arrived at the monastery. Just generally… well, you know.”

Huh?

Byleth scrunches up their eyebrows. “Like what?” They didn’t _think _they’d been acting too differently. They have knowledge of the future – sure – but they haven’t given _that_ much away.

Have they?

“You’ve been acting more… more _emotional, _Bye,” Jeralt finally spits out. “It’s not bad! It’s been nice to see you getting along with the academy twerps – smiling more. But at the same time… sometimes you look so _sad. _Is this - ?” Jeralt cuts himself off. He takes a deep sigh. “Is this about Edelgard?”

…Oh.

Byleth didn’t…

It’s true that since teaching at the academy Byleth has felt themself open up more. There are some emotions they’d never truly experienced before, not before teaching the Black Eagles, Edelgard…

Suddenly they realise, to Jeralt, all that emotional development would have happened in a blink of an eye.

Byleth has lived at the monastery for over a year now.

For Jeralt, it’s been two months.

But their father can’t know this.

So, they look down, avoiding their father’s gaze, and shrug, hoping he’ll read into it what he wants.

It’s not a lie to say Edelgard is always on their mind.

“Oh, Bye…” he breathes. The sofa dips, Jeralt now coming to sit next to them. “C’mere.”

Byleth finds themself pulled into Jeralt’s embrace. It’s warm and tight and _safe. _

They let go of the tension in their shoulders, tension they didn’t even know was there.

They’ve missed this.

Byleth hugs their father back.

Perhaps they can ignore their problems, if only for five minutes.


	8. cat and mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit oh fuck this is so late im so sorry
> 
> so yes. uni is a lot of work. 
> 
> but!!! i still want to finish this fic!!! it's just likely to take, like, _forever_
> 
> so yeah! plan is to try and get one more chapter out around jan and then probs disappear of the face of the earth until my dissertation is done
> 
> thank you, once again, for all your lovely comments and kudos - and if you're still around, thank you for sticking with me <3

Dimitri has been feeling… _twitchy _as of late_. _

That’s the best way to describe it. Life at Garreg Mach has just been growing more and more complicated.

Those Who Slither. Finding out he’s a ghost magnet. _Lord Lonato. _

_What poor timing for a revolt_, Dimitri has been grumbling to himself. Not only has Ashe been distraught for days, but Dimitri can’t help the rising ire in his mind. _They don’t have time for this. _Not when Edelgard’s killers – his _father’s _killers! – are so close to their doorstep.

“Stop being so impatient,” Edelgard repeatedly shushes him. “This is not the time for recklessness.”

She is right, Dimitri has admitted to himself. Nonetheless… the itching under his skin…

Dimitri has found it’s been growing worse with the days.

They have a meeting with the Professor tonight, at least. Along with his most recently marked essay, Dimitri had found a note. Scribbled in the Professor’s handwriting was a date and a time – the library, eight o’clock.

That is where he heads with Edelgard now.

“I can’t help but wonder about what the Professor knows exactly,” Edelgard ponders as they walk, hand cupping her chin. “Their intelligence on Solon was precise – enough to ensure the man was properly dealt. Who was their source? How did they uncover Solon’s identity?”

Dimitri merely hums in response. It may be late, the corridors deserted, but he doesn’t want to risk getting caught talking to Edelgard so openly.

She doesn’t expect a response, thankfully. Instead, she merely continues muttering to herself, quietly enough that Dimitri can tune her out.

There is… yes, there is definitely something _off _tonight.

Dimitri frowns, pauses as he reaches the second floor of the monastery.

Listens.

In between Edelgard’s chatter, is that footsteps?

_Focus, Dimitri, _he thinks, and _breathes…_

…Nothing.

“Dimitri?” Edelgard questions. It snaps Dimitri out of his head. Returning to reality, he sees that Edelgard is a little ahead of him now. She must have not realised he’d stopped. She raises a brow.

_Coming? _it says.

Dimitri shakes his head, rubs his eyes.

He must be hearing things.

Twitchy. Yes, that’s how he’s been feeling.

The library door is locked when Dimitri arrives.

Hmm.

He tries the doorknob again, gives it a good jiggle.

“Locked?” Edelgard questions. “That is peculiar. The library is normally open all hours. Shall I check whether the Professor is inside?”

Dimitri nods and watches as Edelgard phases through the door and into the room.

“They’re here!” his sister calls back. “Perhaps if you knock?”

Knocking it is.

Dimitri raises his knuckles to the wood and raps them against it four times. There is quiet for a moment.

Then – footsteps, the rattling of a key. The door swings inwards, softly scraping against the floor. “Dimitri,” the Professor greets him. “Right on time.”

“Evening, Professor,” he replies, stepping past his teacher and inside. As soon as he does so, they turn their attention back to the door. “I hope you are well…” The lock clicks shut.

Hmm…

“Forgive my curiosity, Professor,” Dimitri can’t help but ask, “but why is it we are meeting here tonight? Why not your office? I know the topic of our conversation will be sensitive but this level of precaution…”

_I am not nervous to be locked in with you, _Dimitri thinks. _Not at all. _

“To be perfectly honest,” the Professor begins, now walking back down the centre aisle, “I’ve been placed on guard duty.”

Oh. 

Edelgard – she’s returned to Dimitri’s side now – frowns. “That is not good news.”

“Oh, I see… Because of Tomas’ disappearance?” Dimitri asks.

The Professor sighs. They sit back down at their occupied desk – its covered in notes, scribbled and eclectic – and cross their arms.

“Enough time has passed for Tomas to officially be declared missing,” they explain. “There was a meeting this morning with all the monastery staff. The church will soon be launching a full investigation. Staff have been assigned in a rota to guard the library.”

Oh _no._

This… could ruin _everything. _

“What should we do?” is all Dimitri can think to ask. They were careful. The body has been disposed of, and should bear no ties to them. Yet, should they have burned it? No, that would have caused too much of a scene so close to the monastery… Dimitri does not think there were any witnesses to Solon’s murder. What if there were? Should they just explain to Rhea what Tomas was? Or would that only cause more issues? Curses, this is complicated. There must be _something _they can do…

Yet – “Nothing,” the Professor says. 

Dimitri blinks. “Pardon?”

_Nothing?_

Strangely, the Professor is smiling. “Rhea currently believes Tomas has been kidnapped. But why take the man? He is a harmless civilian – to their knowledge, at least. The only possible motive the Church can think of for his kidnapping is his connection to this library.”

“Which the Professor has been tasked to guard tonight,” Edelgard breathes. “Ah, I understand.”

The pieces have also clicked for Dimitri.

“You are not currently considered a suspect,” he says. “If you were, Rhea would not have given you unguarded access to the library.”

The Professor nods. “Correct. Why give a suspect direct access to a potential crime scene?”

_Well… _“That is… a relief, somewhat,” Dimitri says. He pulls out two chairs, sits in the one opposite the Professor. “So, we are meeting here…?”

“Because it is secure. I have the only key in and out,” the Professor confirms. “We won’t be disturbed, not tonight... I assume Edelgard is also present?”

Dimitri nods. “She is.”

“And I anticipate answers to my questions, Professor,” Edelgard says, having sat down. Back straight, hands held delicately before her on the table, she is poised with a conviction Dimitri has rarely seen before. If Edelgard and the Professor could speak directly…

“So, what do we know?” the Professor begins, notes in hand. They flick through the pages, eventually settling on a diagram of sorts. “There is a secret cult called Those Who Slither in the Dark. They have infiltrated the church and want to destroy it.”

“They were responsible for the murder of my father,” Dimitri says, and –

The Professor looks up, eyes wide. “They were?”

Did the Professor –

“How strange,” Edelgard hums. Dimitri can practically see her cataloguing the information.

At the same time, “That makes them responsible for Duscar,” the Professor realises. “_Oh. _That – that makes horrible sense. I’m sorry, Dimitri,” they say – earnestly, he thinks – and reach across the table, placing their hand on top of his.

Dimitri – swallows, and shakes his head. “Do not worry about me, Professor. Contin - ”

“No, wait,” Edelgard interrupts. “Ask them about the experiments, Dimitri.”

_“What?” _Dimitri blurts, more surprised than anything. What is El - ?

The Professor catches on right away. “Hmm? Has Edelgard something to say?”

“We need to know,” Edelgard continues, standing firm. “Just what _is_ the extent of the Professor’s knowledge?”

…Okay.

“Edelgard asked…” Dimitri begins. “Those Who Slither in the Dark… What do you know about their Crest Experiments?”

The Professor – they don’t look surprised this time. Their shoulders stoop, the energy drains from them in one breath.

For some reason, Dimitri feels his stomach sink.

“Enough,” the Professor confirms. They stare at Edelgard – what they must see as an empty chair – so _solemnly _that Dimitri wishes he could look away. “I wish I’d known sooner.”

He swallows. Edelgard stares right back at the Professor.

“What is our next course of action, then?” Dimitri diverts. “Solon is dead… Who is next?”

He doesn’t expect the next – unanimous – response.

“Kronya,” Edelgard and the Professor say in the same instant.

Huh.

It is the Professor who continues on. “Kronya, to my knowledge, was working under Solon. I have reason to believe that she will soon attempt to infiltrate Garreg Mach in the guise of a student called Monica von Ochs. The true Monica went missing last year. She is who we should focus on eliminating next, though I do not think she’ll be making her face known anytime soon.”

“Because Solon’s murder may affect their plan?” Dimitri suggests. “When did you understand Monica was originally supposed to appear?”

The Professor flicks through their notes again, settling on what looks like a timeline. Half of it is covered by a stack of books. “Hmm, the end of Horsebow moon, I’ve been informed. Though you are correct. Solon’s murder may have adjusted their strategy. I cannot be sure.”

“What can we do, then?” Dimitri presses. “While we wait? Surely we cannot carry on like everything is…” Normal? Fine?

“There is _one _thing we can do,” the Professor says – albeit reluctantly? They wince – just ever so slightly – before finishing, “We must keep an eye on Jeritza.”

Jeritza? “The _fencing instructor?_” Dimitri knows he’s going to have a headache after this. Just how many criminals has the Academy hired…! 

And, yet again, Edelgard appears _surprised _– not by the knowledge, but who knows it.

Dimitri can feel his skin twitching.

“I have my suspicions,” the Professor continues. “It is likely that he is in league with Those Who Slither under the persona of the Death Knight.”

“He is,” Edelgard confirms, and Dimitri feels a _rush. _

Finally, something he can _do! _

Dimitri rises from his chair. “We must take him out.”

Perhaps, if he kills one of them, if he watches their blood seep into the earth – it will be a sacrifice – _penance – _the itching, it will _stop._

“We cannot,” the Professor says, and Dimitri feels the itch _burn._

“Why? If he’s one of _them _then he deserves to die!” he shouts, banging a fist down on the table. “He helped experiment on Edelgard, murder my _family…!” _

_I don’t understand!_

“I believe he is Mercedes’ brother,” the Professor states, plain as day. 

…_What? _

Suddenly, there is a weight to ground him. A hand, heavy but cold, and he doesn’t have to look over to know it’s El. “The Death Knight wasn’t there, Dimitri. Not during my torture, or your parents’ murders. So far, the only suffering he has caused is just.”

“How do you know, El?” Dimitri asks. “Why ask me to help you to have me do _nothing?” _

Edelgard’s lips are pursed. Her hands come to clasp his. Her eyes flicker repeatedly – between him and the Professor. “I am going to have to ask you to trust me, Dimitri,” she says. “I do not want to lie to you. I will tell you, I promise, just… not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I do not know what you’ll do.” 

There is a game of chess being played above his head, Dimitri realises all at once.

There is so much he doesn’t know.

With pursed lips, Dimitri nods his head in agreement. There is something going on here – concealed on both sides of this equation.

He’s just going to have to trust and hope that’s enough.

The evening ends with a whisper. The Professor has concluded that, for now, there is little else for them to do. Watch Jeritza, keep an eye out for Monica…

It is nearing midnight, the clock ticking on the wall tells. When they spot the time, the Professor does a double take before shooing Dimitri out the door.

“Seteth is coming taking over from me soon,” they explain, and that’s reason enough for Dimitri to leg it.

He bids the Professor goodnight, and heads out to the hall. Edelgard – before he’d left, she’d caught his eye and whispered in his ear, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

So Dimitri leaves the library alone – truly alone – for the first time in what feels like _forever. _The only sound in the corridor is his breath and his movement and _his _thoughts.

Dimitri doesn’t remember the last time the world was truly quiet.

Revelling in the silence, Dimitri closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he turns down the main corridor –

And collides directly with something hard.

He stumbles, so surprised that he falls right back, landing on his rear. His collision is rough – damn it, his hands sting from catching the impact – and his eyes shoot open in surprise to see Hubert hovering above him.

“H-Hubert,” Dimitri stutters, still prone. “I apologise. I did not see you there.”

“…You should be more careful, Your Highness,” Hubert says, and it sets Dimitri’s nerves further on edge. Never have words of concern sounded more like a threat to Dimitri.

Edelgard’s old friend stands tall, his head is held high, his hands positioned carefully at his side. In his physicality, Hubert is the image of perfection. Calm.

But the paleness of his skin… The grit of his teeth… The memory of this _boy _drenched in blood…

It is barely noticeable but the corners of Hubert’s mouth are pinned upwards in an unwilling grin.

Dimitri sees it for what the smile truly is – a grimace.

_I have to get out of here. _

“I will, from now on,” Dimitri hurriedly replies, pulling himself to his knees. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Hubert echoes.

“I – I had a private meeting with the Professor,” Dimitri says, now on his feet. He brushes off his trousers. It is not a lie. 

…What is _Hubert _doing here?

Was he _listening? _

His eyes bore into Dimitri’s. He continues to block Dimitri’s path.

“If you’d excuse me…?” Dimitri gestures with the tilt of his head down the corridor. He offers Hubert a wobbly smile. 

Hubert… remains expressionless.

… But, eventually, steps to the side, allowing Dimitri to pass.

“Thank you,” Dimitri says, trying not to sound relieved. He takes one step forwards, then another, his feet carrying him –

“What do you think Edelgard would have wanted us to do?” Hubert asks. “Now that she’s gone?”

Dimitri freezes.

“…I-I’m sorry?” is all he can think to say. He dare not move a muscle, yet his head twists back anyway to look over his shoulder.

Hubert stares straight head, not really looking at anything.

“I know you knew her. Better than most, at least. What would she have wanted us to do now?”

“…You knew her better than I ever did,” Dimitri stalls.

“No,” Hubert insists, with the shake of his head. “You knew her at her best.” He finally turns to stare Dimitri down. “I’m getting impatient. Tell me. What would she want us to do?”

_What I want is revenge,_ Edelgard had said, _and you’re the only one who can help me get it._

Dimitri can’t say that. It would give away too many truths – secrets Dimitri is not willing to trade.

_What can I say…? Do I tell you the truth, Hubert? Or do I tell you what you need to hear? _

Damn it, El.

“To ensure no one ever suffers as she did,” Dimitri settles on, and hopes that is enough.

Hubert contemplates his words.

And “…Goodnight, Dimitri,” he says. 

He leaves without another word.

Dimitri is alone again.


End file.
